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THE PRICE OF MONEY 



a ipia^ in JFout Bct0 



BY 



ALFRED SUTRO 



Copyright, 1906, by Samu^i, French 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

26 WEST 22D STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street, 

STRAND, LONDON. 



r: 



LIBRARY of CONQSESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 24 1906 
'■ OUSS ^n XAc, No. 










1 ii ai i iM—fl 



i:^ 



TO MY FRIEND 

irsrael ZmQVQilU 



The following is a copy of the original Bill 
THE IMPERIAL THEATRE 

Lessee and Manager : fir. LEWIS WALLER 

On Saturday, 14th October, 1905, and every evening at 8:30, 
An Original Play in Four Acts, by 

, ALFRED SUTRO 

ENTITLED 

THE PRICE OF MONEY 

" Different men love differently, and different things " 

Joseph Tremblett Mr. Lewis Waller. 

William Tremblett *. Mr. Norman McKinnel. 

Lord Cardew Mr. Frank Mills. 

John Collis Mr. Arthur Lewis. 

Harris Mr. Patrick Digan. 

Morgan Mr. S. B. Brereton. 

Porter Mr. C. McGuinness. 

Martha Tremblett Miss Edyth Olive 

May , Miss Eve Titheradge. 

Hon. Susan Lesson Miss Henrietta Watson. 

Mrs. Morphitt Miss Helen Ferrers. 

Mrs. Barter Miss Gwendolen Floyd 

Mrs. Bonham. Miss Helen Leyton. 

Lilian Tremblett Miss Evelyn Millard. 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY. 

Act I. Study in Joseph Tremblett's House, Camden 

Town. 
Act II. Drawing Room in William Tremblett's House in 

Sussex Gardens. 
Act hi. Studio at Miss Lesson's. 
Act IV. Same as Act I. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 



PROPERTY PLOT. 
Act I. (Joe's Study.) 

Faded red ground Turkey carpet-square. Faded, brown 
ground carpet hearth rug, before fire. Office table, set 3 
feet out of centre, over to L, leather top, with two drawers 
at back, on it, twelve manuscripts of books, etc., some un- 
bound, but the leaves fastened together with brass paper- 
fasteners, others bound in rough brown paper covers, 
some magazines, pad of telegram forms, "tear off'' note 
block — blotting pad, glass inkstand, pens and pencil, match 
stand, with wooden matches (heads down), small photograph 
frame, to stand (with photograph of aged man therein) 
and fold-over wallet with strap, in right hand drawer of 
table. Wastepaper basket, top R. corner of table. Low 
backed, oak library chair, V-shaped projecting seat, with 
cushion, above table. Walnut or oak chairs, medium 
height, stuffed backs and seats, covered in dark green 
leather, thus : One L. of table, one R. of table, one down 
L., one up L. C. at back, one down r. before bureau. Down 
R., bureau with writing-desk flap and glazed door bookcase 
over, the bookcase filled with books. On writing flap : — 
blotting pad, inkstand, pens, three small account books, 
bills and various papers. Windsor high-back arm-chair 
with cushion in cover. Copper scuttle with coals and 
scoop. On mantel-shelf :— small Chippendale clock, four 
dark green vases, green ware tobacco jar and cover, two 
pipe racks, several pipes, two match stands, with wooden 
matches therein (heads down), two ash-trays, two pipe 
cases (open) and small statuette. Fire of gas through 
asbestos lumps (note scenery well protected, sheet iron or 
asbestos covered). Inner guard before fire. Fender, fire- 
irons on stands at end of fender. Lounge chair (no arms), 
covered in dark leather, worn and faded. Oak side table 
with several books thereon. Small oak table on which is 
old typewriter and newspaper. Cover off type-writer. 
Small stool. Small settee or window seat. Oak bookcase, 
no doors, filled with books, on the top are other books and 
vase containing fern in pot. Cupboard, with closed doors, 

3 



4 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

with knobs and keyhole, on the top is brass reading lamp 
with shade and several books. On window ledge are two 
geraniums, (in flower) and three ferns. Window draped 
with chintz curtains and inner curtains of white muslin. 
On walls are pictures in black frames. 

LIMES PLOT. 
Act I. (Joe's Study.) 

Right Perch. 1 medium amber, flood (no lens). • 

Left Perch. 1 

Right Stage. 1 open, three quarter box, white clear 

on back cloth. 
Left Stage. 1 

Right Stage. 1 deep flame colour, open lens, through 
fire. 

Act II. (Willie's Drawing-Room.) 

Light green Ambusson carpet square. White skin rugs 
inside lower doors, L. and r. Mounted Tiger skin before 
fire. Pale green ground, carpet rug, outside doors at back. 
Gilt furniture suite, covered in light silk tapestry, thus : — 
Low backed and armed couch L. c, two arm-chairs, one 
C. one R., below doors, one L. of tea table, one above tea 
table and one R. above doors, small square occasional table 
C, half between couch and arm-chair. Gilt shaped tea 
table up R. c, on it: — inlaid (or silver plated) tea tray with 
4 small cups and saucers, silver plated teapot, sugar bowl 
(with tongs) and cream jug, and plate with sandwiches or 
cut bread and butter. Shaped mantelpiece on which are 
French clock, two small vases, and two ware vases con- 
taining tall bunches of large yellow Japanese chrysantlie- 
mums. Log fire, alight. White hearth, white curb fender. 
Dulled brass log box containing logs. Tall palm in brass 
vase. Gilt console table with marble top on which is group 
of ferns in jardiniere. Large shaped oblong table with 
ormolu mount, on it — tall palm in brass vase. Two, three- 
branch silver-plated Sheffield candelabra, with candles and 
yellow shades. Bronze statuette and several well-bound 
books. Tall palm in corner up L. in brass vase. Small gilt 
occasional table in window recess, on it, a flowering 
heatherplant in brass vase. Inlaid writing-table with range 
of drawers under lower end, on it : — blotting book, station- 
ary case, with note-paper and envelopes, brass inkstand, 
with two ink-bottles, quill pens and glass bowl containing 
huge bunch of violets. Light gilt cliair. Window draped 
with long curtain and valance in light old gold, brocaded 
satin or sateen. On wall are four ormolu mounted candle 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 5 

brackets with candles and yellow shades, thus : — two 
light ones, R. and L. above doors and two light ones in 
centres of back flats. In corridor, outside centre doors, 
oak hall table on which is brass bowl, two oak hall chairs 
covered in leather. 

LIMES PLOT. 

Act II. (Willie's Dra wing-Room.) 

Perches as Act I. 
Fire perches as Act I. 

Act III. (Miss Lesson's Studio.) 

Dark parquet stage cloth down all over stage. Square 
oak table L. c, green baize top, on it : — Two bottled ink- 
stand with ink, quill pens. Strike-down gong bell, blotting 
pad, loose blotting sheet, and sundry plans and paper. 
Two mahogany chairs, dark leather covered, R. and L. of 
table. Large studio posing chair, velvet (or leather) 
covered, r. c. Brand new travelling trunk with spring 
clasps and lock and key. Three cardboard dress boxes, 
tied up with string. Pocket knife. Two new dresses 
(serge or cloth) of light and different colors. Fur mantle. 
Deed, in envelope. Roll of pictures on canvas (strapped 
up). Four, strong chairs of various shapes and coverings 
thus : — One (highbacked) down r. below door, one up L. c. 
at back. One arm-chair, up L. under window, and one 
down L. Large extending easel down l. Iron stove, with 
pipe going through wall up R. Oak dresser or hat rack, in 
alcove, l. of centre door. Plaster bust, on square pedestal, 
up L. Plaster cast on wall, up r. Around room, on floor, 
leaning against walls, are several pictures on stretchers 
without frames and several empty frames. Outside centre 
door, "hoofs." Latch-lock and key for door c. 

LIMES PLOT. 

Act III. (Miss Lesson's Studio.) 

Perches as Act 1. 

Left stage. 1 open, three quarter box, white clear 

on sky of backing to window. 
Left flies. 1 dark amber, open lens, flood street 

stage cloth, outside door c. 
Up Stage L. c. One extra dark amber, lens light, 

spotted and thrown through coach 

door. 



6 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Act IV. (Joe's Study.) 

Same as Act 1, except : — 

Pair of dark colored, wooden steps, (five treads) with 
upright hand support on top. The oak table up R. moved 
round, up at back, out of way of steps. The typewriting 
table moved out to c. a little. The cover put over type- 
writing machine, and newspaper removed. The office 
table moved 2 feet more centre. Note that the telegram 
forms and pencil and photograph frame are on table. Coal 
scuttle set well back to wall. Lower end of mantel shelf 
free for leaning on. Fire well alight. Deed for Joe (no 
envelope). 

LIMES PLOT. 

Act IV. (Joe's Study.) (5) 

Perches as Act. 1. 

Fire 

Right Stage. One open, three quarter box, Sunset 

(medium amber and salmon mixed) 

on back cloth. 
Left Stage. On© '♦ " " 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 



ACT I. 



Scene.— Joe Teemblett's study in Ms louse in 
Camden Town. It is a large, rather hare apart- 
ment, right at the top— half attic, half studio. 
There is one hig windoio at bacJc, looking over roofs 
and chimneys; a great table is in the centre, cov- 
ered with books and papers; in front of fire a 
heavy, old-fashioned chair, the covering worn off in 
places, shoioing the didl broivn material beneath. 
On a small side table is a typewriter. Nailed on 
the walls are a few cheap photographs of Italian 
Old Masters— also tivo engravings in black panels, 
one of Whistler's Portrait of his Mother, the other 
of Thomas Carlyle. An old oak desk. Ranged 
along two shelves, evidently the work of an ama- 
teur carpenter, are ^lumbers of well-thumbed books. 
In the room is a great jar, filled ivith daffodils. 
Although it is May, a fire is burning in the grate. 
There is only one door— at l., hack. 

(As the Curtain rises. May, a sweet-faced girl of 
seventeen, is seated up r., in front of the small 
table, tapping away energetically at the typewriter. 
She has a neivspaper before her, from which she 
IS evidently copying. John Collis, after pause, 
comes in — a tall man, ivearing a long, rather rag- 
ged moustache, ivith a heavy, bloated face. May 
does not notice him, and goes on with her work.) 

CoLLis. (up L.) Hullo, kiddie! Where's vour 
pa? ■^ 

7 



8 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

May. (seated up r. Stopping and turning 
round) He's not back yet, Uncle John. But he'll 
be here soon. 

CoLLis. Have I toiled up four flights in vain! 
{Pause) {He goes to the cupboard) Locked! And 
some idiot pretends that it's fascinating to stand 
in front of a locked door ! 

May. Only when you don't know what's behind it, 
Uncle John ! But as you do know — 

CoLLis. Well, how's the typewriting? How many 
words a minute? 

May. {seated) Only forty so far — but I hope 
soon — 

CoLLis. {gets to her up c. at hack, pointing to 
the paper she has in front of her) What is it you're 
doing ? 

May. It's the wonderful speech Lord Rosebery 
made yesterday — 

CoLLis. {grunting) Ugh! So you're interested 
in politics, eh? 

May. No. — {gazing out) — only, as I type it, I 
feel as though it were I — I, the orator, looking before 
me at the great sea of faces — 

CoLLis. And feeling pretty sick, I can tell you — 

May. {turning to him) Oh! to be a man, and 
have the power ! 

CoLLis. {up R. top of table. Sneering) Yes — 
it's a fine thing to be a man, and have the power ! 
I've been a man for forty-nine years — and next time, 
please, I want to be a big dog, or a canary. 

May. {reproachfully) Uncle John! 

CoLLis. {turning aiuay) That's all right — you 
go on with your work, and look at that sea of faces ! 

May. {rises) How is it you've never had any am- 
bition, Uncle John? 

CoLLis. {bringing her down R. pedantically) I 
yield a melancholy ecquiescence to the unnatural de- 
crees of an incontrovertible injustice. {He turns 
her to him) How do you like that ? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 9 

May. (shaJcing her head) I don't know what it 
means. 

CoLLis. It's literature, my child — literature. 
(Hands on her shoulders) Very few men talk liter- 
ature — I am one of them ! So you're ambitious, eh ? 

May. (stoutly) Yes, I am. 

CoLLis. (getting across to c. Sniggering) Well 
— so was your pa. 

May. (warmly) And hasn't he written some 
wonderful novels ? 

CoLLis. Oh yes — we all write wonderful novels — 
that nobody buys — and then we have to provide for 
our family — and are glad to get three hundred a 
year as assistant editor to a weekly twaddletub ! 
(sits on table) There's amibtion for you ! 

May. (protesting) Papa — (''surely" is ex- 
pressed) 

CoLLis. Papa's a great man, I know. I wish I'd 
married — I'd have children to admire me, too. 

May. You'd have had to work then. Uncle John. 

CoLLis. Work ! Am I not a poet ? When did you 
hear of poets working? (chucking her under her 
chin) Why don't you admire my poetry? 

May. I'm not allowed to read it. Uncle John. 

CoLLis. Well — at least you've something to 
look forward to. (pompously) One book — one 
slender volume — (door opened) — contains the soul 
of John Collis ! 

(Martha enters, hurriedly. She is a pleasant- 
faced woman of thirty-eight, prettily hut inex- 
pensively dressed.) 

Collis. Hullo, Martha ! You look excited ! 

(Martha comes half doivn. May goes up and round 
top of table to Martha — then both come down L. 
— arm in arm.) 

Martha, (flurried and annoyed at finding him 
there) John — 



10 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

CoLLis. Rent? No — can't be — I've not had a 
summons — 

Martha, {proudly) We are never behind with 
our rent; and owe no man a penny, (crosses over 
front of lihn to R. with May) 

CoLLis. {turning R. to Martha) Aren't you 
ashamed to air such vicious principles before a 
young and receptive mind? {still on table) 

Martha, {frowning) What do you want, 
John? 

CoLLis. To see Joe. {turning to Martha) 
And — incidentally — to have the key of that cupboard. 

(May seated on left arm of chair, her right arm over 
Martha's right shoulder.) 

Martha, {emphatically) Certainly not. 

CoLLis. {on table) Gods of Hospitality! And 
I am her elder brother ! 

Martha. And I don't know when Joe will be 
back. 

CoLLis. Witness's statement distinctly at vari- 
ance with that of kiddie. 

Martha. Come in later if you like. I've some- 
thing important to say to Joe. 

CoLLis. Wlien you write your reminiscences, 
.kiddie, tell the world how eminent poet was 
treated by his relations. (Collis gets down off 
table) 

Martha, {seated chair r.) Poet! You've not 
written a line — for twenty years ! 

Collis. Poetry, Martha, went out with the 
crinoline. Shall — {top l. of table) — I offer my nec- 
tar to a generation that wallows in small-beer ? And, 
talking of beer — {he holes enquiringly at her) 

{She shakes her head. May also shahes her head.) 

Ah ! not even beer ! Well, {going out) I shall leave 
you. {turns) But I shall return. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. H 

Martha, (turning to him. Scornfully) To 
borrow money ! 

CoLLis. (going) You have a prophetic instinct, 
Martha (turns) that would be invaluable on the 
Sporting Press, (at door) 

Martha. And you're not ashamed — 

(May '^enjoys'' scene, in touch with Martha.) 

CoLLis. (at door) I have merely applied the 
Times system to loans. Instead of Joe lending 
me five pounds at once — which might have embar- 
rassed him — he pays me half a crown weekly, and re- 
ceived my gratitude, delivered free, with the first in- 
stalment. Aurevoir! (he goes, jauntily) 

(May rises — gets up l. courtesies derisively.) 

Martha, (seated r. Disgustedly) Ugh! He's 
your uncle — but well there ! To come cadging for 
half-crowns on poor Joe! — May, you didn't tell him 
Uncle Willie had been here? 

May. (gets r. and sinTcs on her Icnees l. of arm- 
chair) No, mother. But why did Uncle Willie 
come, and why wasn't I to tell? And look — (she 
produces a sovereign) — look what he gave me! 
(Icneeling) 

Martha, (amazed) A soverign! Uncle Willie 
gave you that! 

May. (kneeling by chair — nodding) Yes. And 
he said — just to show you what money's like. 

Martha, (shaking her head) Ah! Well, re- 
member — not a word to your father. 

May. No — I'll be very careful — (puts coin hack 
into pocket) — Mother, we haven't very nice uncles, 
have we? 

Martha. No! My brother, who won't work, 
and borrows money; and your father's brother, who 
does nothing tut work, and save money, (throws 



12 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

her arms around May and draws her to her) Well, 
never mind ! May, dear, when your father 
comes I want a word with him — so you'll give Tommy 
and Alice their dinner, and see they go off to school 
and don't quarrel — 

May. Yes, mother. 

Martha. You'll have to be careful with Sarah — 
she's in one of her tantrums again — 

May. Oh ! I'm sorry ! 

Martha. The butcher's boy has left — and she 
seems to imagine I've kidnapped him! — You've been 
hard at work, May? 

May. Oh yes — I'm getting on nicely, I think — 
Mother, why did Uncle Willie give me that sover- 
eign? (bending forward) 

Martha. He told you — to see what money was 
like. Oh ! I understand ! 

May. (puzzled) He has never given me any- 
thing before — 

Martha. And never will again — you may be 
quite sure of that — 

May. (eagerly) And may I do what I like with 
the sovereign, mother? 

Martha, (hands under May's chin) Whatever 
you like ! Though I know where it will go ! 

May. (eagerly) Mother, mother, the photograph 
of that Velasquez father was so eager to have ! 

Martha, (wistfully) You love him more than 
you do me. May. 

May. (kissing her) Mother, the dear old dad! 
We can't love him too much ! (a knock) 

Martha. Come in. 

(Enter Miss Lesson. She is an elderly lady, ivitli 
gray hair, combed straight hack — and tvears a hlack 
garment, something like a cures frock, hanging 
straight down to the ankles, loithout any ornament, 
or attempt at ornament, tvhatsoever. The dress is 
cut short; and she has square shoes, of the sensible 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. ' 13 

order, with plain hlach huchles. Her hat is merely 
a covering for the head; and, in its absolute sim- 
plicity, may have been hought and have been fash- 
ionable, twenty years ago. Her appearance, for all 
its eccentricity, is distinctly pleasing and womanly 
-4n no single particular does she ape male cos- 
tume—her face is rather determined, but with 
-kindliness and a heen sense of humor. She is 
brusque and abrupt in her speech, but her voice is 
singularly melodious; and she has about her the 
unmistakable cachet of the '' grande dame. ) 

(surprised) Miss Lesson! (she goes eagerly to 
her below table) 

(May rises, gets k. c.) 

Miss Lessoit. (l. c.) (shahing hands) The 
lady who let me in refused to do more than admit 
me. She grunted ^ upstairs '—so I came upstairs. 

How are you? ^, . 

Martha. Oh, Miss Lesson, I'm so sorry! iiiis 

is one of Sarah's bad days. 

Miss Lesson. Don't mention it, Mrs. Tremblett ! 
Not always good-tempered myself— don't see why 
servants should be. (crosses to May) Well, my 
pretty little May! VYe—(dts arm-chair)— come to 
say good-bye. 

Martha. Good-bye? . 

Miss Lesson, (sitting) Yes. I'm going to 

Canada— with Walter. . . ^r i. i- a 

Martha, sits r. of table) What! Not for good, 

surely! (May gets stool) 

Miss Lesson. That's what he says. And as 

I've been a model aunt to the boy ever since he 

was in short frocks — , • x Tiru.r 

May (sitting on stool by armchair R.) wny 

does he go, Miss Lesson? A peer— in the House ot 

Lords— he can speak, whenever he wants to-— 

Miss Lesson, (seated in armchair R. by pre) 



14 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Only there's no one to listen, my dear — Chan- 
cellor asleep on the Woolsack — might as well make a 
speech on the top of the Himalayas ! Besides, he al- 
ways has been fond of farming — and he has bought 
two thousand acres at some unpronounceable place — 

Martha, (seated r. of table) (confidentially 
to Miss Lesson) Well — perhaps he'll marry out 
there ! 

Miss Lesson, (shaking her head) No. He 
never will marry. He's the type of the perfect 
lover. Though there are others. Different men love 
differently, and different things. But anyway, Wal- 
ter's constant. I'm sorry enough — 

May. (opening wide eyes) Constant? (turns 
if Martha) Lord Cardew? To whom? (turns to 
Miss Lesson) And why doesn't she — 

Miss Lesson, (patting her cheek) Ah, my dear 
little May, that was not meant for you ! But there 
still are some men who can only love once in their 
life— 

Martha. And you really are going with him? 

Miss Lesson. Oh yes ! One place or another — 

May. You'll miss your painting, Miss Lesson ? 

Miss Lesson. Oh, I'll work our there ! Wonder- 
ful country, they tell me — lots of stuff ! And I mean 
to milk the cows, you know — and if they won't let 
me I'll — paint 'em ! 

May. Oh, Miss Lesson, I should like to go with 
you! 

Martha. And leave ns, May? 

May. (rising and getting r. c. — close above 
Martha) Mother ! As if you thought that ! But 
how lovely if we could all get away ! Camden Town 
is so ugly! 

Miss Lesson. Wait till the Fairy Prince comes, 
little May ! When he's there — Camden town or 
Canada — it's always — Fairyland ! Isn't it, Mrs. 
Tremblett? Tell me, will your husband be long? 
(comes down r.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 15 

Martha, (c.) I'm expecting him every minute. 

Miss Lesson. I hope he'll come soon. I've such 
a lot to do ! 

May. (getting to Miss L.) (standing up R. c.) 
Of course. You must say good-bye to all your 
friends ! 

Miss Lesson, (r.) I've only acquaintances, 
my dear, of whom some are more intimate than 
others. Don't let's use the word ' friend ' too lightly. 
I had one, and she's dead. (hands on May''s 
shoulders) 

May. (r. c.) Aren't we friends of yours, Miss 
Lesson ? 

Miss Lesson, (affectionately) Very intimate 
acquaintances ! Oh, I'm a great stickler for precis- 
ion! 

(Joe comes in.) 

May. (running to him. Going helow table taTces 
Joe's left hand) Here he is ! Here's Daddy ! 

(Martha gets up r. of table to May at bach then to 
top of table.) 

Miss Lesson. Ah, Mr. Tremblett! You're just 
in time — to receive my parting benediction! 

(May at left of table, then up at bach c. with 
Martha.) 

Joe. (coming across r. to Miss Lesson. Shah^ 
ing hands with her) Why? You're not going 
away? 

Miss Lesson, (r. nodding) With Walter — to 
Canada — farming. 

Joe. (r. c.) (amazed) What! 

Miss Lesson. Fact! There's a shop you know, 
in Cockspur Street, where they sell land across the 
counter, as though it were ribbons ; and as they can't 
send it home to u^, we're going to it. 



IQ THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Joe. Wonderful ! And when do you come back ? 

(Martha and May come down to left top corner of 

table.) 

Miss Lesson. At present we say never — which 
may of course mean next year. I told my stock- 
broker I'd return when there was a genuine boom 
in Kaffirs. He said his grandson would be happy to 
receive me. 

Joe. {laughing) Let's hope there'll be a Stock 
Exchange handy. 

Miss Lesson. (merrily) Make me very un- 
happy if there isn't ! I should miss my little 
gambles. I invested my last five pounds yesterday — 
bought two Chartereds — 

Joe. Do you think it quite wise to go off like 
this? 

Miss Lesson. Had my doubts — till I found all 
my swagger relations disapproved — that reassured 
me! Well, I'll be off. Shan't wait for Walter— 

Joe. He's coming this morning? 

Miss Lesson. Oh yes. We start to-morrow. 

Joe. 

Martha. 



y To-morrow ! 



(Martha and May come down l. c.) 

Miss Lesson. My motto — strike while the iron's 
heating ! 

May. (reproachfully) And you only come to us 
now! 

Miss Lesson. Always leave the best grape to the 
last! 

Joe. What time do you start ? I'll be at the sta- 
tion — 

Miss Lesson. 4.05, from Euston — we go straight 
on board. But don't see us off — hate being seen 
off — feel like the man who apologized for taking 
so long to die. Good-bye, Mr. Tremblett. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 17 

Joe. Good-bye, Miss Lesson, {first shake of 
liands) And how about Art? 

Miss Lesson. I'll send home masterpieces, you'll 
see! I still keep your autographs, you know — 
among the doubtfuls. There's no telling — you may 
be famous yet. 

Joe. {smiling) Why not? The assistant editor 
of a weekly magazine — 

Miss Lesson. When you're dead, somebody may 
start a boom in your novels. 

(Martha l. c. witli May lelow her) 

Joe. There'll be a boom in Kaffirs first! 

Miss Lesson, {shaking hands) Who knows? 
Well, good-bye and good luck! {she holds hand) 
Famous or not, you're a fine man, and I'm proud to 
have known you. 

Joe. {simply) Thank you, Miss Lesson. 

(Joe gets above table to door — holds it open.) 

Miss Lesson. Your father was a fine man, too 
— it's a pity his other son — {Releases hands) — 
Well, {turning to Martha) — ^good-bye, Mrs. Trem- 
blett — and good luck to you, too. 

(Martha going gets up l. c.) 

{Taking May to her) N'ow please remain here, 
both of you — I want a few words with my little May, 
all to myself. 

{She passes her arm around May, and goes to the 
door, Joe and Martha accompanying her. 
Martha leans over bannisters. When she has 
gone Martha shouts doiun the stairs ^^ A pleasant 
voyage! Come back soon! " to which Miss Lesson 
replies off, "Who knows? Good-bye.'') 



18 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Joe a7id Martha come in, and shut the door.) 

Martha. Oh, Joe, poor Lilian ! 

Joe. (coming down) Don't let's speak about 
Lilian — 

Martha. Yon will tell her? 

Joe. {round table to chair r. sits) Of course I 
shall tell her. It's the best thing, perhaps. But no 
more of that. We shall miss the dear old lady. 

Martha. A queer notion at her age ! And I was 
always hoping that she might do something for 
May! {coming and standing L. of tahle) 

Joe. {seated r. of table. Surprised) May? 

Martha. Wliy, yes — she's so fond of her ! and 
as May's nearly seventeen — {getting round top of 
tahle) 

Joe. Heaven ! Are you already thinking of mar- 
rying oif my little May ! 

Martha. You don't want her to be single all 
her life, Joe? {sits top of table) 

Joe. All her life ! The little thing's just be- 
ginning her life ! 

Martha, {top of table) And a fine beginning 
too, having to go out as a typist ! 

Joe. {stoutly) It does no woman harm to have 
to earn her own living. That makes her independ- 
ent — if she marries then, she marries from choice, 
and not from necessity. 

Martha. Oh, theory's all very fine, (sits top of 
table) 

Joe. Come, old girl, don't grizzle ! And it was 
your own idea, wasn't it? It was yon who sug- 
gested it ! See now, if you're good, I'll take you to 
look at your diamonds this afternoon — 

Martha, {leaning over to him, laughing) In 
Tiffany's shop-window! 

Joe. Haven't we agreed to regard that shop- 
window as our safe — and don't they belong to 
you because we imagine they do — and haven't Tif- 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 19 

fany's all the trouble of looking after them, and dust- 
ing them, and keeping off the burglars? And as 
you'd hate to wear diamonds, being of a simple 
mind — 

Martha. Try me! 

Joe. It's ever so much more comfortable having 
them there, in the shop-window, {ivith a sudden 
change of voice) Martha! I've some good news. 

Martha. Good news, Joe? {starting hack) 

Joe. Handisyde called me into his room this 
morning, told me he was very satisfied with me, 
made my appointment permanent, and raised my 
salary fifty pounds a year. 

Martha. Oh! I'm glad — (bending to him) — 
but permanent, Joe ! 

Joe. (nodding) It means we shall have no more 
anxiety as regards the future. 

Martha, (seated top of table, arm on his shoul- 
der) But your dreams, your ambitions, the books 
you were to write — 

Joe. (in loud whisper) I don't give one damn 
for the lot — not one solitary Prussian damn! I've 
the best wife in the world — 

Martha, (nestles down, head on shoulder) Dear 

Joe! 

Joe. And the best children in the world — and 
my dreams and ambitions can go hang themselves 
on the first rusty nail in the nearest asylum ! Mar- 
tha, they've made my increase of salary retrospect- 
ive — ^ 

Martha, (laughing) I've met that word, I m 
sure, but I don't think I was introduced. 

Joe. It means I shall get twelve pounds ten ex- 
tra this quarter in a lump sum — 

Martha. Ah ! 

Joe. And that means a new dress for j£)M and 
May, and a theatre for us all — 

Martha, (leaning to him again, hand on shoid- 
der) And for you — ? 



20 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Joe. For me? I'll tell you. I'll have a pound 
of the best tobacco to be got for love or money! 
Give me a kiss, old girl ! (he throivs his arms 
round her and kisses her boisterously) 

(May comes in, with Lord Cardew. May l. of 
Walter — his left arm over her shoulder. Joseph 
and Martha rise. Joseph gets r. c. and Martha 

E.) 

May. Father, father — Lord Cardew! 
Walter. Joe ! 

(May shuts door and comes down l. c.) 

Joe. Walter ! (he goes eagerly to him c.)] 

(They shaTce hands.) 

Walter, (crosses to Martha) How are you, 
Mrs. Tremblett? (turning to Joe and May) 
You've heard the news, May tells rie. 

Martha. Yes — and we're so sorry I Why, 
you've been away nearly a year — and now you're off 
again I 

Walter. Yes, I'm a restless spirit. 

May. (l. c.) Where have you been. Lord 
Cardew ? 

Walter. Tarpon-fishing — and climbing mount- 
ains — 

(Joseph's arm round May.) 

May. Oh ! how splendid ! I would so love — 
Martha, (crosses front of May and taJces her 
right hand) Come, May — let's leave them, (to Wal- 
ter, over her shoulder) You'd like a word with Joe, 
I know, (going out) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 21 

May. (at door) I'll see you before you go, Lord 
Cardew — shan't I? 

Walter. Oh yes, of course — I'll come down and 
say good-bye. 

(Martha and May go — May looking lack.) 

Joe. So you're off to Canada? {sitting on L. 
corner of table) 

Walter, (sitting) Yes. I suppose it must 
sound pretty foolish? (r. of table) (puts hat on 
table) 

Joe. I don't know. How long have you been 
back? 

Walter. Three weeks, that's all. 

Joe. And you're tired of town already! 

Walter, (seated r. of table) Yes — I'm always 
tired of town. And I'm tired of tarpon fishing and 
climbing mountains, and generally of killing time. 
When you come to think of it, I'm thirty-two — and 
I'd like to do something. I'm sick of hanging 
around. One's hands are tied over here. 

Joe. (seated on table l.) Yes. 

Walter. So we're going, Joe — the old aunt and 
I. We've booked our passage as Susan Lesson and 
Walter Dalmon — we'll drop the Honourable and 
we'll drop the Earl. I ought to have come to you 
before, but I've had all my affairs to settle. 

Joe. Of course. 

Walter, (rolling his gloves into a ball) We've 
known each other a good long time, haven't we ? It's 
a queer thing — your people stewards of the property, 
father to son, for more than two hundred years — and 
now no Tremblett at Cardew Towers — and soon no 
Dalmon either ! 

Joe. These things happen ! 

Walter. It would have been quite a blow to your 
father, wouldn't it? 

Joe. Dear old man — yes! (lie takes up photo 



22 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

from table, and looTcs at it) How proud he was of 
you all ! Well, what do you mean to do with the 
place ? 

Walter. Let it, if I can — but that's not easy — 
There are some people wanting to buy — but I won't 
sell, {leans hack) 

Joe. You won't? {puts photo down on table). 

Walter. Hang it, no ! The place has been in 
our family so long! {pause) Do you know, I've 
an idea your brother wants it ? 

Joe. {surprised) Willie? 

Walter, {leaning fortvard on stick) They're 
his solicitors, I fancy — I'm pretty sure. I saw the 
man and asked him point-blank — was he acting for 
Mr. Tremblett? He denied it, of course — but I 
could see he was lying. Why should lie want the 
Towers ? 

Joe. I can't imagine. 

Walter. He hasn't told you? 

Joe. I see him once every year or so. 

Walter. He would like to be Lord of the Manor, 
perhaps, where he used to play in the kitchen, {puts 
stick on table) 

(Joe laughs.) 

{with sudden recollection) I beg pardon, Joe ! 
{pats Joe on knee) 

Joe. {cheerfully) Not at all. It was a beauti- 
ful kitchen, {laughs) But Willie's not sentimental. 

Walter, (still playing with his gloves) No. 
It's probably only another way of showing his hatred 
for me. 

Joe. {quietly) Why should he hate you? 

Walter, {pause. Looking up) Hasn't he mar- 
ried the woman I love? {pause) That's reason 
enough I suppose, {rises and gets l. back to Joe — 
moment's silence) Have you seen her lately, Joe? 

Joe. I manage to go there every week — when 
Willie's out. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 23 

Walter, (his bach to Joseph Tremblett) 
(l. c.) He doesn't treat her any better? 

Joe. Lilian rarely mentions him — but of course 
he's not changed. She's very wise — she makes the 
best of things. 

Walter. How's she looking? {turns up stage) 

Joe. Just the same. And she never complains. 
Oh ! she's brave ! 

Walter, {turns to him) Does she speak of 
me? 

Joe. {he takes hold of Walter's arm) {pause) 
We do {pause) speak of you sometimes, 
Walter . . . {crosses r. to fire) 

Walter. Has she got over the little boy's death ? 
{gets up L. c. — hand on hack of chair) 

Joe. {at fire) It's more than two years ago — 

Walter, {standing l. of table) He was all she 
had in the world — her one child. It wasn't a pretty 
baby — but — how she loved it ! 

Joe. Yes. Poor Lilian ! {sits in armchair) 

Walter. I've not seen her since then, Joe — not 
had a line from her 

Joe. Willie made her promise — 

Walter, {standing l. of table) That's always 
been such a mystery to me ! I used to call on her 
At Home days, and listen to Company Promoters' 
wives talking scandal and shares, {leaning on 
table) I've not been alone with her, since she was 
married. Then why? 

Joe. My dear Walter, when he forbade you the 
house, I asked him the reason. He merely chuckled. 
That's all the answer I got. 

Walter. He can't have been jealous. A man 
who treats his wife like that can't love her. 
{coming r.) 

Joe. {leans bach in armchair) The baby's 
death made a great difference to him. He adored 
the child. 



24 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Walter. And sicfe then, of course — (crosses to 
fire) — he^s worse? 

Joe. He hasn't improved. 

Walter. (hand on Joe's shoulder) I often 
think, Joe, that you, as the elder brother — {sits on 
stool) 

Joe. I've no more influence over Willie than a 
fly that crawls over his desk. I've no money — and 
money's the one thing he cares for, or values. (Wal- 
ter leans forward) It has become a disease, like 
drink or opium. There's nothing in common be- 
tween us. If it weren't for his wife, I'd never go 
near his house. 

Walter. She doesn't come here? 

Joe. {smoJcing pipe) No. He won't let her. 
(staring into fire) 

Walter. Why ? 

Joe. I've told you — he gives no reasons. 

Walter. And she obeys? 

Joe. (turns to him) What can she do against 
Willie? 

Walter. And she's chained to that man till one 
of them dies ! (rise) Isn't it monstrous? 

Joe. It's life. 

Walter, (nodding. Bound top of table) Life 
— yes. And her father, the old Dean, who preached 
the beautiful sermons that made all the ladies weep 
— he was life (sits l. of table) — too, wasn't he? 
He sold Lilian to Master Willie 

Joe. Willie offered to pay his debts. 

Walter, (seated l. of table) Yes — and I 
couldn't ! How he pushed up his spectacles and 
ruffled his silvery hair, when I asked him for Lilian ! 
He had other views, he said — other views. We had 
loved each other, I told him, since we were chil- 
dren 

Joe. (interrupting — Rises) No good dwelling 
on the past, Walter — 

Walter, (seated l. of table. Fiercely) No 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 25 

good ! Ah ! but I do ! — I do — and I hope there's 
some warm corner in Hell, from which the old Dean 
may see how his daughter has prospered ! 

Joe. (smoJcing pipe. Comes to table c.) That's 
a question for the theologians. Though Hell's rather 
out of date. 

Walter. She obeyed her father — now she obeys 
her husband 

Joe. Yes. Some women are like that. 

Walter. I was a younger son then. I hope the 
old Dean knows I've come into the title, {nursing 
his leg) 

Joe. (hacJc half turned to audience) (Still c.) 
They say the Devil has a sense of humour — he may 
have told him. 

(Pause — a moment's silence.) 

Walter, (rises, gets c. to Joe quietly) You'll 
stand by her, Joe? (hand on lapel of Joe's coat) 

Joe. Always. 

Walter. Tell her I'm going — but that I haven't 
changed — and shall never change — that I'm there, 
when she wants me — and that I'm going away, be- 
cause I can't endure living in the same city, and not 
seeing her. Tell her that I — that I — (turns from 
him a step L.) — but she knows! I won't write to 
her — she and I — have no need of letters. . . Here's 
my address in Canada — don't lose it. 

(He hands Joe an envelope, which Joe talces and 
puts in his wallet which he takes from drawer of 
table.) 

(takes hat and stick. Cross up l. c.) I shall hear 
from you? 

Joe. (up behind table) Yes. 

Walter, (up l. c.) I shouldn't go, if you 



26 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

weren't here. But I can trust you — I can, Joe, 
can't I ? 

Joe. (top of table) You can. 

Walter, (l. c.) And — in case of necessity — 
if he made things too — hard — for her — you'd inter- 
vene? 

Joe. Don't let's exaggerate. He's merely the 
ordinary — {at table, putting letter away) — kind of 
domestic bully — there are lots like him. 

Walter, {up l.) At least most men care for 
their wife ! 

Joe. He prefers money. But even then he's not 
unique. 

Walter. Not unique — no. But there's some- 
thing wrong, somewhere. 

Joe. The world wants putting right, Walter — 
but we can't do it. 

Walter. No — we just snrug our shoulders and 
say " Poor Lilian " — Well, I must be going. Good- 
bye, Joe ! {comes to Joe up c.) 

Joe. I shall be at the Station to-morrow. 

Walter. Don't, if you're busy. And stop here 
— I'll say good-bye to the children, {a step going 
to door with Joe) 

{As they join hands, the door opens and William 
Tremblett comes in. He stops awkwardly on 
seeing Walter) 

Joe. Willie! 

Willie, {comes doivn l. a little, mumbling) 
Your fool of a servant said you were alone. 

(Walter holes at him, quietly, then deliberately 
turns his bach.) 

Walter, {to Joe) Good-bye! {going) 

Joe. {going up to door together shake hands — 

as he accompanies him to the door) I shall be at the 

station, Walter! 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 27 

(Walter goes.) 

(Joe gets top of table and turns to Willie, wlio lias 
teen contemplatively watching Walter's depart- 
ure.) 

Joe. {pause to Willie) Well? 

Willie, (producing a snuff box and tapping it, 
down L.) Strange I should meet the lordling, wasn't 
it? What was he saying good-bye for, with such 
emphasis ? 

Joe. (sits top of table) He's going to Canada. 

Willie, (with sudden violence) The deuce he 
is ! When ? 

Joe. To-morrow ! 

Willie, (gets to l. of table. Staggered) To- 
morrow! (wildly) When does he start? What 
time? 

Joe. In the afternoon. Do you want to see him 
off, too? 

(Arranging papers, etc., on table.) 

Willie, (standing l. of table. With a great sigh 
of relief) In the afternoon — ah ! (his whole man- 
ner changes — he becomes roughly genial, and offers 
his snuff-box) Have a pinch? 

Joe. Heavens — no ! Why do you take that 
beastly — (puts MS on chair r.) — stuff? 

Willie. So professional ! Old fashioned family 
solicitor — eh? Besides, gives you time to think. 
(takes snuff) Some men cultivate a stammer — I 
take snuff. 

Joe. Well — you haven't come here to tell me 
that? 

Willie. Your welcome's not particularly cordial, 
Joe — is it now? (cross r. c. and then to fire) 

Joe. Are you bringing out some new swindle, or 
reconstructing one of the old? I've no financial in- 
fluence — if I had, you know what I'd say about you. 



28 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie, (his hach to fire, cliucMing) Still so 
severe on the poor Company Promoter ! Besides, I 
don't promote — I only advise — Well, how are things 
going with you? Getting on, eh? {turns to him a 
step R. c.) 

Joe. I've had a rise. My salary now is three 
hundred and fifty a year. 

Willie, (with affected admiration. Hands he- 
hind back) You don't say so! As much as that! 
Wonderful profession, literature ! 

Joe. What are you worth, Willie? Fifty thous- 
and — or a hundred thousand — or what? 

Willie, (np r. c.) Oh, nothing like that, Joe — 
nothing like it ! I wish it were ! But I've quite a 
nice little pile ! 

Joe. What good does it do you? 

Willie. Power. Money buys — and the world 
has a lot to sell. 

Joe. (arranging papers) What sickens me most 
is that people who know you are rich, ask me, almost 
enviously, whether I am your brother. 

Willie, (r. c. chucMing) Shocking, isn't it? 
But don't let that worry you ! You've your ideals, 
and I mine. You like fame, and I money. We're 
both rather fools, aren't we? Everyone's a bit of a 
fool. So there you are. (change of tone) Now 
let's talk, (gets to r. of table) 

Joe. Go on. 

Willie. I suppose you'll let me sit down. 

Joe. Why not? 

Willie. Thanks. May I dislodge this — master- 
piece? (he removes a pile of manuscripts from a 
chair, throws it on the table and sits R. of table, then, 
bending fonoard, his voice becoming sharp and in- 
cisive) Would you like to earn five thousand 
pounds ? 

Joe. (staring) Five thousand pounds? 

Willie. Yes. Would you? 

Joe. Honestly ? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 29 

Willie, (seated) Quite. 

Joe. How ? 

Willie. It will take you half-an-hour. Will you ? 

Joe. What have I to do? 

Willie, {sullenly) Use your influence on an 
obstinate woman. 

Joe. Lilian ? 

Willie, {nodding) Lilian? Yes. 

Joe. And you'll pay me five thousand for that? 

Willie. If you succeed — yes, I will. 

Joe. {pause. Scornfully) What dirty scheme 
have you on foot now, Master Willie? It must be 
pretty bad if poor Lilian dares to refuse ! 

Willie, {snorting) Bad! And poor Lilian, of 
course ! It's always poor Lilian ! 

Joe. {facing Jiim) You've hammered obedience 
into her — 

Willie. Have I! When I tell you that she re- 
fuses. 

Joe. Why? What is it? 

Willie, {impressively) ) confidentially) (pause) 
Joe, I want to buy a property that belongs to the 
man who went out just now — 

Joe. Cardew Towers! Ah! Then it was you! 

Willie, (biting his nails) He suspected? 

Joe. He thought they were your solicitors. 

Willie, (pause) Well, so much the better! Joe, 
fifteen thousand acres go with the Towers, and 
there's coal on the land. 

Joe. Ah! that's it? 

Willie, (with emphatic contrast of tone) Yes. 
I've had secret information — no one knows. It's one 
of the finest coalfields in the kingdom ! I've offered 
a handsome figure — Cardew, the ass, won't sell. 

Joe. So he told me. 

Willie. IVe offered above market value — he re- 
fuses — definitely. 

Joe. Well? 



30 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie, (after a moment's pause, doggedly) So 
I want Lilian to go and ask him. 

Joe. {pause, pushing hack his chair and staring 
at him) You — want — Lilian to go and ask him? 

Willie, {pettishly) Is that so wonderful ? I do. 
He would not refuse her. 

Joe. You think not — eh? 

Willie, {sourly) Cardew loves her, doesn't he? 
— Curse him, isn't he the kind of eternal lover, wait- 
ing for them both to die to ride off together on a 
broomstick ? 

Joe. Is that why you forbade him the house? 

Willie. . . I didn't know then that there was 
coal on his land. . . 

Joe. {seated top of table) Of course. That 
makes a difference. 

Willie. Besides, I had stood it quite long 
enough 

Joe. Stood it — stood what? They had scarcely 
seen each other since you — bought her 

Willie, {fiercely) Bought her! If I did, let 
me tell you I made a precious bad bargain ! 

Joe. {rises and crosses to fire) Y^ou can't expect 
all your investments to turn out well. 

Willie. Oh ! of course, it's so easy for you ! 
{turns head toivards him) Why did I marry her, do 
you think, or buy her, as you call it? Was it such a 
catch to be the son-in-law of that bankrupt old hum- 
bug, the Dean? 

Joe. {quietly leaning elbows on mantel-shelf) 
She told you about Walter 

Willie. I believed it was all boy and girl non- 
sense. Well — it . . . wasn't, {he turns on Joe 
and speaks with passion) Do you know what it 
means to be married to — to live with — a woman who 
— who — {change of tone) {faces front) Ah! Well, 
never mind all that ! I've swallowed my pill — but — 
it took some swallowing! {change again) And how 
would you have liked to have him — hanging around ? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 31 

Joe. And yet you want her to go to him now ! 

Willie, (doggedly) Yes. I do. 

Joe. Although 

Willie. Don't you worry yourself. I know what 
I'm doing. 

Joe. Because of the money? 

Willie, (turns head towards him) The money. 
Precisely. Let's have no highfalutin' ! 

Joe. You told me just now 

Willie, (wildly) It's the only way, I tell you — 
(rises) Besides, he's going to Canada — and let's 
hope he'll stop there, (turns to him) And we know 
Lilian, don't we? (a step or two r. c.) What a fuss, 
what a fuss ! Cardew's staying with that mad old 
aunt of his — and she's Lilian's godmother 

Joe. She hasn't seen Lilian since her marriage 
to you 

Willie, (r. c. turns to him sharply) What has 
that to do with it ? I've put the whole matter before 
Lilian 

Joe. Have you mentioned the coal? 

Willie, (snarling) Is it likely? (rsturn to r. 
c.) But I've told her she'd be rendering me a very 
great service. And I promised her an allowance 

Joe. You've been keeping her pretty close — — 

Willie. Close ! She's the kind of woman who'd 
give all she had to the first beggar who asked her! 

Joe. Hard on you, that. 

Willie. (c) She refuses. — No reasons — she 
won't! When I argue — tears! (turns away) 

Joe. I see. 

Willie, (turns hacJc sharply to Joe) Very well 
then — that's where I want you — to earn your five 
thousand pounds. 

Joe. The pay's good. 

Willie. I'll put it in writing if you like — (a step 
to Joe) — though I think you can trust my word 

Joe. (smoking pipe) Yos. That's your one 
quality — and it's wonderful enough, too 



32 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie, {eagerly. A step or two nearer him) 
She'll listen to you — she believes in you — she'll do 
what you tell her. I've drawn up a deed for her to 
take to him — and when she brings that back, signed, 
I'll give you five thousand pounds. 

Joe (turning to him) I've never had much re- 
spect for you, Willie 

Willie. Hang your respect ! Who cares? (turns 
and gets down c.) 

Joe. But this thing is so contemptible — (puts 
pipe down on mantelshelf) 

Willie. Oh ! do drop those moral maxims of 
yours, for once! They've done a great deal for you, 
haven't they ? They bring you three hundred a year ! 

Joe. Three hundred and fifty. Let's be accurate. 

Willie, (a step to him) Which means that 
you're practically a pauper 

Joe. (hands in trousers pockets) With clean 
hands. 

Willie And a stainless conscience, and the rest 
of the flap-doodle ! Well, what I ask you to do won't 
hurt your conscience, or leave even a grease-spot on 
it. And if it does, you'll find that five thousand 
pounds wipe off a lot of spots! (getting away from 
him c.) 

Joe. No doubt ! 

Willie, (gets down c.) Come round this after- 
noon. It's Lilian's At Home day — but I'll be there, 
and see you're alone with her. Make her write to 
Cardew that she'll call to-morrow — (going — gets l. 

Joe. (half turn — with sudden violence) Get 
out! 

Willie, (l. c. turns — staring) What? ? ? 

Joe. I've told you to go. You're wasting your 
time — and isn't time money ? 

(Willie maJces a movement of anger, moves a step 

to c.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 33 

{The door opens and Martha comes in, looking 
anxious and worried.) 

Joe. {at fire) I won't try to explain. What's 
the use? {lie waves to the door) 

Martha, {down l. anxiously) Joe 

Willie, {crosses to l. c. Martha l. Triumph- 
antlij) Ah! here's Martha! Martha, speak to this 
husband of yours, and drive some common-sense into 
him ! I've offered to put five thousand pounds into 
his pocket — and yours — and you've heard him! (^0 
Joe) Talk it over with Martha — {going) you can 
tell her everything, {turns at door) I'll expect you 
this afternoon, {at door) 

{He goes, jauntily) 

Joe. (r. c. With supreme disgust) The brute! 

Martha, {cross from l. c. to him r.) Why, Joe 
— what has happened ? 

Joe. {moving from her — cross her to table R. 
Sits) Oh! don't let's talk of it! 

Martha, {following him. Cross behind Joe to 
R.) Joe, Joe, you must tell me! Five thousand 
pounds he said — what for? 

Joe. {gets r. of table and sits) What for, what 
for? Good Heavens, I've not thought very highly 
of this brother of mine — but I never believed him to 
be quite as — low down — as this ! 

Martha, {standing over him r.) Don't work 
yourself into a passion, Joe. Tell me. 

Joe. He has discovered somehow that there's coal 
on Walter's land, and has been trying to buy. But 
Walter won't sell. So he wants Lilian to go and 
ask him 

Martha, {quietly) Well? 

Joe. {staring amazedly at her) "Well!" Did 
you hear what I said? That he wants Lilian to go 
to Walter 



34 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Martha. There's nothing so terrible in that, Joe. 

Joe. {more and more bewildered) Nothing so 
terrible ! You say this ! When he admits himself 
that they're in love with each other ? 

Martha. Lilian's not a young girl — and all that's 
so long ago! {gets above him and sits in chair top 
of table) Every woman has a romance in her life — 
this is Lilian's. 

Joe. {seated r. of table) Ah! — perhaps youve 
one too ! 

Martha. {patting his hand) I married my 
romance, Joe! But these five thousand pounds — 
what is it you have to do? 

Joe. Lilian refuses to go — for the first time in 
her life she has dared to stand up against him! So 
he imagines / will persuade her — I ! 

Martha, {leans towards him) You've great in- 
fluence over her 

Joe. Yes — she trusts me. Poor thing, she has not 
many friends ! She married my brother — I've done 
what I could. And he believes he can buy me, with 
his five thousand pounds ! 

Martha. Think what the money would mean, 
Joe! 

Joe. {eagerly) That's the one thing in the world 
we mustn't think of it ! Why, apart from everything 
else, is it likely I'd help to deceive my friend Walter, 
who knows nothing about the coal? 

Martha, {turns square to table) That doesn't 
concern us, Joe; you are not going to buy the place. 
And is he such a friend of yours after all? You see 
him so seldom ! 

Joe. I've known him since he was a boy — and I 
like him. 

Martha, {elbows on table — head on hands) His 
people treated your father very badly — he has never 
done anything for you. You remember, when you 
tried for that secretaryship — 

Joe. {seated r. of table) 1 suppose he didn't 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 35 

think I was the man for it. And besides, are we 
only to regard those people as friends who do things 
for us? 

Martha. All I mean is, Joe, that we must not 
be quixotic. (Arm on Joe's shoulder) You've noth- 
ing to do with the coal, or Lord Cardew — you've 
merely to persuade Lilian — 

Joe. {scarcely believing his ears) Merely! (He 
looks sorrowfully at her) Don't say that you'd like 
me to do it ! 

Martha, (with feeling) Ah, Joe, Joe! {Hand 
on arm. Arm round neck, kisses him) I don't like 
to do anything that would hurt you, or that you 
don't feel to be right ! But this is a chance — a 
wonderful chance — the chance of our lifetime ! 

Joe. Because of the beastly money? Are you 
going to be like Willie, and put that above everything 
else in the world ? 

Martha, (strongly) Not for myself — I don't 
care about myself — but we have our children to think 
of. That's our first duty, Joe. See there's our little 
May growing up — our beautiful little May — and she 
has to go to the city, and be in a stuffy office from 
nine till six — 

Joe. (i-ises goes r. to fire) Thousands of girls 
have to do it — 

Martpia. Because their parents can't help them- 
selves, that's all! (Turns to him in chair) But is 
it a healthy existence, do you think, for a young girl ? 
Our May's not very strong — she'll soon grow pale and 
anaemic — 

Joe. (unhappily) Why should she? 

Martha, (rises, only a step up r. c.) Because 
she's growing, and should have lots of air, and ex- 
ercise. Look at the post-office girls behind the coun- 
ter — how thin and white they are — our May will be 
like that too ! 

Joe. (right elhotu on mantel, head on hand, front- 
ing audience R.) You've never said these things be- 



36 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

fore — it was your own idea that she should learn 
typewriting — 

Martha, (gets down r. c. then c.) Because then 
we had no choice — then she had to earn her living! 
But, Joe, do you think she likes it, the poor litde 
thing? (Sits chair R. of table) Do you realize how 
a girl craves, at that age, for a little brightness, a 
litte joy, in her life ? And you know how dearly she 
would have loved to go to College ! And there are the 
others, too, growing up — we shall have soon to think 
of them. And, Joe, (rising and coming to Joe) 
I've so often wanted to give May some mountain air 
— instead of our fortnight every year in a third-rate 
lodging in Hastings, we could take her to Switzer- 
land, couldn't we — give her a real holiday, for once — 

Joe. (turning away and dropping his head) 
This is the first time you have flung my poverty at 
me! 

Martha, (goes to him, eagerly, and laying her 
hand caressingly on his, with her arm round his 
neck) Because it's the first time you've had a chance 
of escape from it ! Oh Joe, Joe — I'd never advise a 
thing I believed to be wrong — but here — what harm 
could there be? 

Joe. He forbade Walter the house — and now he 
wants her to — 

Martha. Lilian would do it — for you ! I can 
quite understand, of course, that it won't be — pleas- 
ant — but she'll do it — for you ! 

Joe. (eying her grimly) It only strikes you as 
unpleasant — nothing more ? 

Martha, (away from him slightly) Of course, 
nothing more! You men always exaggerate things 
so much ! She will go to Lord Cardew — and I dare- 
say she'll cry a little — and he'll be very sorrowful, 
and very gentle — and they'll bid each other good-bye 
— he's going away, isn't he ? — and we shall have five 
thousand pounds, which means all the world to us! 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 37 

Think Joe, another two hundred and fifty a year ! 
(clasps her hands together) 

Joe. (sarcastically, moves from mantel — hands 
in trousers pockets) Money doesn't bring in five per 
cent nowadays — (Crosses r. c.) 

Martha. Willie told me he'd manage it for us — 
on a safe mortgage — 

Joe. (c. staring, turning sharply to her) 
Willie ! I ! He told you ! Ah ! then he's been here, 
behind my back — 

(Martha r. hangs her head, in deep confusion) 

Martha, you've never kept things from me before ! 

Martha, {bravely) Well, it's true. He came 
early this morning when you were out, and told me. 
He wanted to offer five hundred — I found he would 
make an enormous profit, and screwed him up to five 
thousand. I said it was only right that we should 
share — 

Joe. (grimly) Come in on the ground floor, is 
the technical expression — 

Martha, (r. c. then goes to R. of Joe c.) Don't 
make fun of it, Joe — this thing is too serious ! — Of 
course, I understand exactly how Lilian feels — but 
I tell you there can be no possible harm in her going, 
and no possible harm in your using your influence. 
She'll be glad to help us, poor dear, and glad, in her 
heart, to see Lord Cardew again, and bid him good- 
bye. (Head on Joe's right shoulder) Oh! I can 
quite understand her refusing to obey Willie — we 
women are like that, you see — and it's only natural 
her not wanting to ask this favor. But tell her that 
it's for us — and she'll do it at once ! 

Joe. That's just what's so hateful — she'd do it — 
for us ! 

Martha. (eagerly) Joe, Joe — (clutching his 
arm) — don't you see — that would justify it to her! 
They won't see each other again for so many years, 



38 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

the poor things — all their life, perhaps — don't you 
think she'll be glad to go ? And if she lias to sacrifice 
her pride a little — if you have — haven't we a duty to 
our children, and may we let our pride stand in the 
way ? No, no, Joe — we mustn't — we mustn't ! 

(May comes running in.) 

May. Mother, Sarah wants to know — (stops l. c.) 
Martha, {lohispers to Joe) See for yourself 
what it would mean to her. (Crosses him and going 
to door — stays on the way to speah to May) I'll go 
to her, dear. You stay here, and talk to father. 
He's a bit worried, May. 

(Martha Icisses her and goes, quickly.) 

May. (goes c. to Joe.) You worried, daddy? 
(She throivs her arm round his nech — he draws her 
close to him) 

Joe. (wistfully) May! My little May! 

May. What is it, daddy ? Tell me ! 

Joe. (taking her r. to fire) Does it hurt you so 
much being poor. May? 

May. (stoutly) Not one — little — hit! Wouldn't 
I rather be your daughter than that of the richest 
man in the world ! 

Joe. Then you don't mind going to the City ? 

May. (getting on Joe's kriee) Mind ! Why 
should I ! Oh ! I'll be so proud to bring home a few 
shillings to mother every week ! 

Joe. (ivith a groan) My poor little girl! But, 
May . . . suppose, suppose ... I had — 
money — left me — suppose — 

May. (her eyes sparkling) Daddy! 

Joe. Suppose instead of going — to the — City — 
you could go to — College — 

May. (wild with excitement) Oh, — daddy, 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 39 

daddy ! it's too good to be true ! (fondles Mm again 
and again) I always knew something would happen ! 
Oh ! how I've hated the thought of the office ! And I 
hate typewriting, Daddy — I do, I hate it ! And col- 
lege — oh! lovely, lovely! Father, father dear! (She 
hugs him again, tivo Tcisses) Mother ! {rises) 
whereas mother ? Oh ! I must kiss her too ! Mother ! 

{She rushes out of the room) 

Mother! {As she runs down the stairs, her voice is 
heard calling) Mother! Mother! 

(Joe remains seated, staring at the fire, and sinTcs 
his head on his chest as the curtain slowly falls) 

CURTAIN". 



ACT 11. 



Scene. — The drawing-room at Willie's. Fire. 
There is a door at hach c, leading to the staircase, 
another at r., opening into another room. 

(Mrs. Barter is seated l. c. c. holding a teacup in 
her hand, Mrs. Bonham is standing, just about 
to go. Lilian is hy her side.) 

Mrs. Bonham. Yes, I must go, dear Mrs. Trem- 
blett — I\e so many calls to pay ! Good-bye ! 

Lilian. Good-bye, Mrs. Bonham — {rises and 
later sees her out) 

Mrs. Bonham. {to Mrs. Barter) Good-bye, 
Clara — come and see me soon. 

Mrs. Barter. Oh yes — good-bye, Maudie — love to 
the children, and Harold. 



40 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Mrs. Barter and Mrs. Bonham hiss each other 
affectionately.) 

(Mrs. Bonham goes.) 

Mrs. Barter, {waiting till Mrs. Bonham is well 
out of earshot — laughing) They're up a tree, you 
know. 

Lilian, (returns and sits up r. at tea-table) 
What ! the Bonhams ! 

Mrs. Barter, (nodding) He came to my hus- 
band yesterday — he's broke — wanted to borrow some 
money — 

Lilian, (sits) Oh, I'm sorry! 

Mrs. Barter, (with a chuckle) So was Mr. 
Barter ! He regretted it was against his principles 
— but he gave some excellent advice. They've been 
shockingly extravagant ! 

Lillian. Indeed? 

Mrs. Barter. See how she dresses, at her time 
of life ! And they keep five servants ! He has been 
plunging, you know. They'll be sold up. 

Lilian. Poor things ! 

Mrs. Barter. Well, it serves her right, doesn't 
it? That motor car she has been talking about so 
much — it'll be a penny 'bus now. 

Lilian. I thought you were so fond of her? 

Mrs. Barter. Of Maudie ? Why, so I am ! She's 
one of my very best friends — but one can't be blind 
to her faults, though — can one ? 

(A moment's silence.) 

(Harris, the manservant, announces Mrs. Mor- 
PHITT, a stout, over-dressed person.) 

Mrs. Morphitt. How do you do, Mrs. Tremb- 
lett? Ah, Clara, I thought I should find you here. 
(She shakes hands with Lilian and comes down c. 
and embraces Mrs. Barter) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 41 

(Mrs. Barter rises and embraces her.) 

Lilian. Have you had tea, Mrs. Morphitt ? 

Mrs. Morphitt. (sitting in armchair) Well, I 
have, — but, do you know, I don't mind taking some 
more. I've been at the Hamlins to condole — and the 
tea was so weak ! 

Mrs. Barter, (l. c. sits on settee next arm-chair) 
Ah, of course — old Mrs. Waters died yesterday, didn't 
she? 

(Lilian hands Mrs. Morphitt a cup.) 

— I must go too. 

Mrs. Morphitt. It was time she did die! She 
must have been nearly ninety! And what do you 
think her last words were? 

Mrs. Barter. Oh, something spiteful ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. She sent for her daughter — you 
know (nodding to Lilian) that long, thin pale Ma- 
tilda, who has nursed her these twenty years — and 
she whispered — oh, most solemnly ! '' Never call a 
black suit when you re dealer!'' 

(Mrs. Barter laughs.) 

— And with that she died! 

Mrs. Barter. (laughing) How funny! (to 
Lilian) But, all the same she was right, don't you 
think, Mrs. Tremblett? 

Lilian, (seated up r. top of tea-table) I don't 
play Bridge, you know. 

Mrs. Barter. That is so eccentric of you! But 
how glad long Matilda must be the old lady's gone li 

Lilian, (making conversation) Is it her sistei* 
who is married to that awful Mr. Hamlin? 

Mrs. Morphitt. (holding up her fat hands) 
Mrs. Tremblett, oh, dear Mrs. Tremblett, you mustn't 
call him that! Why, he's worth at least a million! 



42 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Mrs. Barter. At least ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. His manners, of course are not 
every good — but one forgives a great deal in the man 
who promoted the Great Patagonian Goldfields ! 

Lilian. (meeJcJy) I thought there had been such 
a scandal about that — 

Mrs. Morphitt. (with dignity) Scandal? Oh 
no — surely scandal is scarcely the word? 

Mrs. Barter, (merrily) The dear silly public 
came tumbling in — and they lost their money — 
(turns to Mrs. Morphitt) and then of course they 
howled ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. But that was where Mr. Hamlin 
showed such immense cleverness ! The prospectus 
was a masterpiece — wasn't it, Clara? 

(Mrs. Barter talces cup and saucer and puts on table 
behind her.) 

Mrs. Barter, (with admiration) My husband 
say it's a classic — that it ought to be framed. Why, 
there wasn't a single clause of the Companies' Acts 
that he hadn't respected ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. (seated arm chair — The tivo 
shaking with laughter) And yet — (laughs) — oh 
dear, it was really too funny! (to Lilian) But we 
must give Mr. Tremblett some share of the credit. 
It was he who helped to draw up the prospectus — 
wasn't it ? 

Lilian, (shaking her head) I don't know. 

Mrs. Morphitt. I'm pretty sure. Oh, you may 
well be proud of your husband ! When he has had a 
hand in the prospectus, one can laugh at the law ! A 
wonderful man ! 

Mrs. Barter. Yes, that's the word — u'owderful ! 
(to Lilian) It isn't luclc, you know — one can't call 
it Inch I He did pretty well out of it, too, did he not, 
Mrs. Tremblett? 

Lilian. Ho never speaks to me of his affairs. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 43 

Mrs. Barter, {shahing her head at Lilian) Ah, 
my dear, I'm afraid they don't interest you as much 
as they should ! My husband talks over everything 
with me. 

Mrs. Morphitt. {stolidhj) So does Mr. Mor- 
phitt ! And I may say, if he had followed my advice, 
he would never have been in trouble over that Amal- 
gamated Milk Canners' affair ! 

Mrs. Barter. (Patting her hand affectionately) 
Dear Agatha ! Still fretting over that ! After all, 
he was only a first-class misdemeanant ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. Still, it's not pleasant for my 
boys, when they go to Eton, to be told that their 
father has been in prison — 

Mrs. Barter. {to Mrs. Morphitt) Dear 
Agatha, that can happen to anyone! And besides 
Holloway's scarcely a prison — {to Lilian) — is it, 
Mrs. Tremblett? 

Lilian. I really don't know — 

Mrs. Morphitt. What I call so abominable is 
that they should allow shareholders to sit on a jury ! 

Mrs. Barter. Yes — it's wicked! Of course 
they're prejudiced! 

Mrs. Morphitt. And Mr. Morphitt had just 
given a thousand pounds to Saint Samuel's, and been 
thanked by the Dean and Chapter ! We were getting 
on so nicely ! 

Mrs. Barter. It's a year ago, dear Agatha! 
These things are forgotten so quickly ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. Of course — but still — {turning 
to her) would you believe it! (tahing Lilian in) 
They won't let my Henry stand for Parliament. 

Mrs. Barter, (staggered) No — not possible! 

Mrs. Morphitt. It's a fact, I assure you! He 
has approached hoth parties — (Fame — Talcing 
Lilian in) — ^lie doesn't care ivhich side he sits on — • 
and they won't ! And it has always been his ambition 
— and mine! 

Mrs. Barter. Never mind, (patting her hand) 



44: THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Agatha dear ! I suppose you've handsomer diamonds, 
and more expensive motorcars, than any woman in 
London ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. You dear thing, you're always 
so sweet ! {She pats Mrs Barter's arm) 

(Harris comes in — announcing Miss Lesson.) 

Harris. Miss Lesson. 

(Harris exits.) 

(Lilian springs up and goes eagerly to her.) 

Lilian. Oh, Miss Lesson, I'm so glad! You've 
come at last! 

Miss Lesson, (brusquely) How are you, Lilian ? 
(Coming down with Lilian r.) 

Mrs. Barter. (rising — to Mrs. Morphitt) 
That's the Ho?wurahle Miss Lesson ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. (rising, open-mouthed) Oh ! 

Lilian, (taking Miss Lesson down r.) (To 
Miss Lesson) The first time you've been here! 
Oh, I can't tell you how pleased I am ! 

(Miss Lesson goes to fire — Mrs. Morphitt feels 
herself neglected, and coughs.) 

Lilian, (turning) Let me introduce Mrs. Mor- 
phitt, Mrs. Barter — Miss Lesson. (Lilian returns 
round c. heloiv table to top of tea-table and sits) 

Mrs. Barter, (c.) Delighted, I'm sure. 

Mrs. Morphitt. (l. c.) (bowing affably) 
Charmed to meet you. Miss Lesson. 

Lilian, (loho has returned to table) Will you 
have tea? 

Miss Lesson, (at fire) No, thanks. Nasty stuff 
• — never take it. 

Mrs. Morphitt. (sweetly) 1 think I've met a 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 45 

relation of yours — The Honourable Wilfred Lesson — 
a most charming man. 

Miss Lesson, (at fire, hack half turned to audi- 
ience) Second cousin — rkther a scamp — we're not 
proud of him. I've come across a relation of yours, 
I fancy — at least, the same name. 

Mrs. Morphitt. Indeed? 

Miss Lesson, (over shoulder at fire) Well, not 
in the flesh — but I sent a guinea, you know, to help 
put him in prison — 

(Lilian rises) 

Mrs. Morphitt. Oh ! {Down a step l. c. to Mrs. 
Barter.) 

Miss Lesson. And never did I invest a guinea 
more gladly, {getting r. c.) 

Lilian, {to Miss Lesson) Hush! He's her 
husband ! 

Miss Lesson, {tranquilly) Ah — didn't know — 
should have told me — 

Mrs. Morphitt. (c.) {With immense dignity) 
Miss Lesson, my husband was a victim to the most 
abominable injustice — 

Miss Lesson, {gets bach to fire) Think so? I 
had ten pounds in his Milk Cans myself — 

(Mrs. Barter down l. c. of Mrs. Morphitt.) 

Mrs. Morphitt. (c.) I am sorry for that, of 
course — but I am sure you will admit this was not 
a case for the Public Prosecutor to take up — 

Miss Lesson. Quite agree. Case for policeman 
and nearest lamp post. 

Mrs. Morphitt. {aghast) Madam ! 

Miss Lesson. Tell him so, with my compliments ! 

Mrs. Morphitt. {goes up to Lilian a step) Good 
bye, Mrs. Tremblett ! I did not think you would al- 
low me to be insulted in your own house— 



46 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Lilian, (standing, distressed) I'm sure Miss 
Lesson did not mean — 

Miss Lesson", (at fire, cuts in quichly) I did — 
every word of it ! And if I were a newspaper man 
I'd put it in print. 

Mrs. Morphitt. (after a terrible look at Miss 
Lesson) Come, Clara. 

(She goes c. door.y 

Mrs. Barter, (wait till Mrs. Morphitt's off — 
To Lilian — half chucHing) Oh, Mrs. Tremblett, 
(shakes hand with Lilian) I'm afraid she'll never 
forgive you ! 

(She hurries after Mrs. Morphitt.) 

Miss Lesson, (discontentedly) Nice friends you 
have, I must say ! 

Lilian, (gets l.) Their husbands are business 
connections (gets down to settee) of Mr. Tremblett 
— ^they come every week. They're the only people I 
see. (Sits settee l.) 

Miss Lesson. ( at fire) Cheerful! But I'm 
sorry I lost my . temper. Can't keep things back 
— blurt out the truth — suppose that's why I'm not 
popular ! Expect you'll catch it for this ? 

Lilian, (intensely) Mr. Morphitt will probably 
complain to my husband — But I agree with every 
word you've said — and I'm glad you've said it — 
they're awful people! 

(Pause.y 

Miss Lesson, (gets c. to Lilian and sits arm 
chair — taking Lilian's hand) My poor Lilian! 
What a brute you must have thought me, never to 
come near you, all these years. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 4.^ 

Lilian (releasing hand) It wasn't kind, Miss 
Lesson. 

Miss Lesson. Well, perhaps it wasn't. But you 
were my god-daughter and I was fond of you — And 
I warned you I shouldn't, when you spoke to me 
about your marriage. 

Lilian. Yes. 

Miss Lesson. I told you then I had no sympathy 
with daughters who were too dutiful — and I believe 
I added a word or two about your venerable father 
the Dean — 

Lilian. He's dead, Miss Lesson. 

Miss Lesson. Y^es, he's dead. I made a few 
remarks to him, too, at the time, that he didn't ap- 
preciate, (quietly and haltingly) Well, Lilian, I've 
only called to-day to bid you good-bye. 

Lilian, (surprised) Good-bye? 

Miss Lesson, (nodding) Walter and I are go- 
ing to Canada. 

Lilian. Wliat? on a visit? 

Miss Lesson, (seated arm chair c.) (haltingly) 
No. For good. — Joe Tremblett knows, and of course 
he'd tell you — but I thought you'd rather hear it 
from me. 

Lilian. (simplij) Thank you. Miss Lesson. 
(She turns her head away, and for a moment there 
is silence) 

Miss Lesson, (gently leaning to her) Walter 
often speaks of you — more often than I like, (re- 
gretfully) Oh, my child what a hash you've made 
of your life ! 

Lilian, (sadly) I couldn't help myself! 

Miss Lesson, (seated arm chair) H'm — well 
— It's no good crying over spilt milk! Tell me, 
though — why do you allow that great brute of a hus- 
band of yours to bully you? 

Lilian, (in feeble protest) Miss Lesson — 

Miss Lesson, (stoutly) I call him a brute, be- 
cause he is a brute. — Don't know what sort of a wife 



48 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

I should have made — no one ever had the sense to 
ask me — but I could almost wish I were Mrs. Wil- 
liam Tremblett — 

Lilian. What would you have me do ! Oh, 
Miss Lesson, Miss Lesson — I suppose there are some 
women who are born to be unhappy — 

Miss Lesson, {seated) Fudge. That's par- 
son's talk. We're born to be happy, all of us. 

Lilian. Then I'm an exception. 

Miss Lesson. Why do you stand it? let yourself 
be bullied — 

Lilian. He has a will of iron — One has to bend 
before it, or break. 

Miss Lesson. I'd have broken a good many other 
things first ! — Then you're not even mistress in your 
own house? 

Lilian. It's not my house — it's his. (Rises 
and crosses r. up to fire) 

Miss Lesson, (discontentedly) H'm! 

Lilian, (r. leans right arm on mantelpiece) 
Everything's his — I belong to him, with the rest 
. . . (Pause) Oh, things weren't so bad till my 
little boy died — Willie worshipped him — and I, at 
least, had my child. But ever since then he — he's 
not — I — I mean — I don't know ! There are times 
when he has seemed sorry for me, and at first he 
tried — I could see that he tried — and he cared for me 
too, I believe. . . . But, I — oh, it has all been 
so awful! (turns) — As you see, I'm resigned. 
(crouches down at fire) 

Miss Lesson. That's a quality I don't admire, 
and never did. 

Lilian, (kneeling at fire) What else would 
you have? Days come and go — one sits in one's 
corner — I do everything for peace. But, what is 
worse — and I've seen it grow in him, little by little, 
eat up, as it were, all that was good — I don't know 
what it is, I can't explain it — but it's as though the 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 49 

whole world were blotted out, and he saw only one 
thing — money ! 

Miss Lesson, (nodding) Money — (rises and 
crosses R. to chair l. of tea-table and sits there) 
Yes. 

Lilian, (half rising, facing Miss Lesson, Jean- 
ing left elhoiu on tea-table) And with that, you 
know, a fearful belief in what money can buy. 
When my boy was ill, Willie called in a great doctor 
— a specialist — a man who was all thermometers and 
rules — and the doctor sent for two nurses, and gave 
them instructions I must be kept from my little 
son's bedside — I, his mother — and he cried for me, 
and they wouldn't let me go near him — I, who might 
have saved him ! 

Miss Lesson. My poor Lilian ! 

Lilian. (tearfully) Who might have saved 
him — yes! (pause) And here we sit, night after 
night, he plotting and planning and scheming — and 
wondering — Oh! I can see it! — that I don't care 
about the money he makes — that I hate it, hate it! 
and (rises) the years roll on, and here we shall sit 
to the end., . . . Well, that's how it is. I try 
to make the best of things, (cross to arm chair c.) 

Miss Lesson, (rising) As long as you don't 
get like the women (Lilian sits armchair) the 
novelists write of, who've a far-away look in their 
eyes — and are always misunderstood, (down k. c.) 

Lilian. Oh, don't be afraid! I've told you 
I'm resigned. And if only he will leave me out of 
his schemes — 

Miss Lesson, (turning to her, with surprise) 
You? What do you mean? 

Lilian. The last few days have been especially 
unhappy. Oh, never mind why— I think it has 
blown over. And I don't complain — you mustn't 
think I'm always lamenting. I've brought it on 
myself — I realize that. I see now that I shouldn't 



50 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

have allowed my father to govern me. But my 
mother had worshipped him — and I promised her — 

Miss Lesson, (a step down and then up r. c.) 
I know! I know! Your mother took a delight in 
sacrificing herself — and was so supremely unselfish 
that she sacrificed her daughter too ! 

Lilian. What I regret most of all is that I seem 
to have spoiled Walter's life. 

Miss Lesson, (up r. c.) That's the penalty we 
have to pay for our acts of foolishness — someone else 
always suft'ers for them — {gets down to Lillian c.) 
However, I won't scold any more. — I'm very sorry 
for you, my poor Lilian! (leaning over her — she 
hisses her affectionately, and is about to go when 

(Willie opens the door, comes in, and pauses on the 
threshold, in surprise at seeing Miss Lesson.) 

Willie, {g^ts down to fire — in mocTcing defer- 
ence) Miss Lesson! this is indeed an honour. 

Miss Lesson, {goes c.) — {eyeing him squarely) 
Glad you appreciate it, Mr. Tremblett — I trust you 
are well ? 

Willie, {at fire) Enjoying excellent health, 
thank you, Miss Lesson — 

(Lilian seated l. c.) 

— excellent health! — You are going to Canada, I 
hear. 

Miss Lesson. Yes, Mr. Tremblett — I am going 
to Canada. 

Willie. Still devoted to art, and the Stock Ex- 
change, Miss Lesson? 

Miss Lesson, {up c.) Yes, Mr. Tremblett, I 
paint pictures, which don't sell — and I buy shares — 
which don't pay dividends. 

Willie, {chuckling) That is unfortunate, very. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 61 

Miss Lesson. Isn't it? If I were not going 
away, I should ask you to sit to me for your portrait. 

Willie, {up r. at fire) (Bowing) An addi- 
tional cause for my regretting your departure. 

Miss Lesson, (gets c.) But I shall do it from 
memory — a fancy sketch — a little allegorical — 

Willie, (indifferent) Indeed? 

Miss Lesson, (c.) Yes! I shall paint you as 
Cupid, sitting on a cash box, with little angels behind 
you, flourishing prospectuses. — Early Italian style, 
you know. 

Willie. (Uting his lip) Such a pity no one 
ever buys your pictures. 

Miss Lesson. Oh, this one will find a buyer— I'm 
gure — among your — clients! Good-bye, Liliali — 
(gets to Lilian l. c.) 

(Lilian rises.) 

— I must be off — good-bye, my child — . . . 
(She hisses Lilian affectionately, and almost ten- 
derly—then turns and faces Willie) (Cheerfully) 
Good-bye, Mr. Tremblett. 
Willie, (sourly, not stirring) Good-bye. 

(Miss Lesson goes c. door.) 

(Lilian is alout to follow /ler— William steps for- 
ward. ) 

Willie, (harshly) Stay here. 

Lilian. I want to — 

Willie. I have told you to stay here ! The old 
harridan has been as offensive as she could; she can 
find her own way to the door. 

Lilian, (after a moment's pause) Very well. 
(Comes down l. c. she sits down) 

(William faces her grimly, his hands tucked behind 

his haclc.) 



52 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie, (gets r. c.) You've been airing your 
grievances, eh ? Telling her what a brute I am, and 
so forth? 

Lilian, (in arm chair in low tones) I've told 
her I'm very unhappy. 

Willie, (r. c. — with a sneer) Of course! — It's 
extraordinary how fond you are of snivelling! 

(Lilian rises, going up c. gets hut a step) 

— Where are you going? 

Lilian. To my room. 

Willie. You will be good enough to remain with 
me. 

(Pause) 

(He gets between her and the door — Lilian sinlcs on 
to the sofa l. c. 

You're very pleased with yourself, I suppose? 

Lilian, (despairingly) 1 have great cause to be 
pleased! (Sits sofa) 

Willie, (down r. c.) Wliy not? You've op- 
posed your husband — refused to obey him. 

Lilian, (turning and facing him boldly) Yes, 
I have refused ! And it is useless — useless — useless 
— to re-open the matter ! 

Willie. (r. c.) (ChucTclirig) Hoity-toity! 
Quite another Ajax, defying the lightning (he 
brings out his snuff box which he taps — eyeing her 
Jceenly) The old cat will have told you, I suppose, 
that our Romeo is going to Canada? 

(Lilian is silent and turns her head away — Pause.) 

(Harshly) Answer me ! 

Lilian, (seated) Miss Lesson informed me 
that she and Lord Cardew were leaving. 

Willie. And doesn't our little heart leap when 
we know that the man we love intends to desert us? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 53 

Lilian, (rises and faces him with a sudden vio* 
lent movement) I will not endure this. 

Willie, {chuckling) The Honourable Susan 
has been advising her little lamb to show its teeth I 

Lilian, (almost in a ivail — turns from him) 
What pleasure can it give you to torture me, day after 
day! 

Willie, (talcing snuff from box) Torture, tor- 
ture! Why do you use such ridiculous words? I 
was merely putting an every day question. 

Lilian, (face to him) Yes, you have put it, 
day after day ! Mention Lord Cardew to me again — 
I'll leave you ! 

Willie, (talcing a pinch) Threatened men live 
long. 

Lilian, (despairingly) I'll leave you, I will! 
I can't bear it ! 

Willie. You can have your dowry, you know, for 
the asking, (moving up to her) It shall be sent 
on a post-card. 

Lilian. Yes — I have no money — and you have 
driven away all my friends — But I'd rather be in the 
workhouse — 

Willie, (a step to her) There's a fine one in 
the Marylebone Road — all the latest improvements 
— it's lucky that should be our parish. 

(Lilian moves swiftly to the door r.) 

(With sudden fierceness) Listen, you ! I don't want 
any of your airs and graces. I — stay here, I tell 
you! 
Lilian. I will not — I will not ! 

(She rushes out of the room.) 

(Willie talces a step forward — then pauses, shrugs 
his houlders, and taps at his snuff box, then crosses 
L.) 



54 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Harris brings in Joe, luho hands his hat to Harris 
and gets to fire r.) 

Willie, (l. c.) Ah, brother Joe! (to Harris) 
Mrs. Tremblett has just gone to her room. Tell her 
my brother is here, and wishes to see her. And if 
anyone comes to-day, Mrs. Tremblett is out. You 
understand ? 

Harris, (standing at hach l. of doors) This is 
her At Home day, sir? 

Willie, (stamping his foot) Blockhead ! You 
heard what I said? 

(Harris goes without a word.) 

Joe. This would seem to be one of your amiable 
days, Master Willie. What a little sunbeam you 
are ! 

Willie, (growling) H'm. Never mind! I've 
an elder brother who monopolises all the virtues. 
None left for me ! 

Joe. (putting some woodlogs on the fire) You'll 
excuse the liberty? 

Willie. Feel cold, eh? I thought that great 
heart of yours always kept you warm, (ivith a sud- 
den chaiige of voice) (crosses r. c.) Look here, 
you'll not find her in a very good mood — 

Joe. (at fire — Turning to him) You've been 
having another go at her, eh? Another turn of the 
screw ? 

Willie, (r. c.) (sullenly) That gambling old 
dauber Miss Lesson has been here — they've been hav- 
ing a rare fling at me, between them — I can tell 
you ! She has heard from Miss Lesson about their 
going away — (with sudden passion) I'd give some- 
thing handsome if that ship went down! I would! 
(a step to c.) 

Joe. (up to r. of table) That's very sweet of 
you ! Walter's done you no harm — that I know 
of 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 55 

Willie, (c.) (snarling) All right — never you 
mind — its no business of yours — (a step to him) 
I've prepared her. 

Joe. Thoughtful of you — very. You don't pro- 
pose to stay here? 

Willie. Oh no — I shall leave you! (going to 
door R. turns at door — with sudden sarcasm) I 
thought you'd come, brother Joe ! Money ! Oh, 
some of us sneer at it 

(Joe moves out r. c. — step) 

— ^but we're all precious glad to have it ! 

Joe. (up R. c. Looking quietly at him) I fre- 
quently blame myself, Willie, for not having thrashed 
you more often when we were boys — 

Willie, (doivn r. at door — ivitli a wave of the 
hand) You've no sense of humour, Joe — no sense 
of humour — and that's such a pity ! 

Joe. (sternly) (arms crossed aJcimho) I'm 
here — and I'm ashamed enought to be here 

Willie. The first sensible thing you've done, all 
your life ! 

Joe. Say much more in that strain and I'll leave 
you, and not wait for Lilian! 

(Willie turns away, shrugs his shoulders.) 

Willie. Oh I'll go ! Now, mind you be 

Joe. (leaning right elhow on mantelshelf and 

head on right hand) Thank you. I don't want 

your advice. 

(With another shrug, Willie goes r.) 

(After a moment, the door at hacTc opens and Lilian" 
enters c. She goes eagerly to Joe with out- 
stretched hands. Joe moves up to meet her.) 

Lilian, (c.) Joe, dear Joe — Oh, I'm glad to 
see you ! 



56 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Joe. (r. c.) You've been crying? (he holds 
her left hand in his left and looks closely at her) 

Lilian. Yes — but never mind about that ! Does 
he know you're here? 

(Joe nods.) 

(Goes close to him and dropping her voice) Miss 
Lesson called, Joe — it was kind of her, wasn't it? — 
she came to tell me — (drops hands) 

Joe. About their going? 

Lilian. Yes. (she gives a long looJc at him, 
then goes L. c. a?id turns to him) Oh, Joe! You'll 
never believe what Willie has been wanting me to 
do! 

Joe. (aivJcwardly) I know — I've seen him. He 
came to my house this morning. 

Lilian, (returning to him) Imagine it ! Can 
you imagine it? (a step to him) Joe, why is he so 
anxious to buy the place? 

Joe. (r. c.) (embarrassed) Why? 

Lilian, (c.) Yes — why? Do you know? 

Joe Yes 

Lilian, (l. c.) (wistfully) You'd rather not 
tell me? 

Joe. (r. c.) (clearing his throat) It would 
be ... . breaking a confidence 

Lilian. Think of his asking me to go to Walter 
— me — to beg such a favor of him ! Can you under- 
stand it ? 

Joe. He — he — is very keen on — on 

Lilian. He knows, of course, that Walter would 
do it — that he wouldn't refuse me. 

Joe. That's just it. 

Lilian, (struck hy something in his voice) 
Joe ! You don't want me to go ? 

Joe. (hesitating, not knowing what to say) 
Lilian 

Lilian, (amazed) You do? 

Joe. (r. c.) (doggedly) Yes. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 57 

Lilian, (c.) What? {slie stares hlanJcly at 
him) You? 

Joe. That's what I've come for — that's why he 
has left us alone. 

Lilian, (scarcely 'believing lier ears) Joe ! 
(she moves instinctively from him a step) 

Joe. (with a great ejfort) Sit down, Lilian ! — 

(She goes and sits l. on settee.) 

— let us — let us — discuss this — (he moves across L. 
and stands R. of settee) — He promised you an — al- 
lowance — if Walter signed the deed ? 

Lilian, (still staring wondering at him) Yes. 

Joe. That would be useful ? 

Lilian. I've had to go to him for every 
penny- 

Joe. Well, that would be altered now. And 
Willie keeps his word, we know that. 

Lilian, (moving towards him) Is it you, you 
— who advise me to do this disgraceful thing, be- 
cause of the money? 

Joe. (struggling bitterly with himself) After 
all — (sits above her on settee) would it be so dis- 
graceful, Lilian? 

Lilian, (with deep reproach) Joe! 

Joe. (doggedly, avoiding her eyes) You and 
Walter are old friends 

Lilian, (quietly) We love each other. Even 
he knows that. 

Joe. (with a gesture — rises and gets r. c.) 
You're married — you're not a young girl. You and 
he are old friends, nothing more. And see now — 
why won't Walter sell the place? For sentimental 
reasons, isn't it? It's sentiment with him — (turns 
to her) he told me himself — when he dies the 
property goes to a distant cousin. So, after all ! 
And if he lets Willie have it, he'll be rendering you 
a very great service. He'll surely be glad to do that ! 

Lilian, (eyeing him steadily) Do you realize 



58 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

what it would cost me to ask such a favor? I have 
spoiled Walter's life — I want him to forget me — 
{looking away from him) 

Joe. You would see him for half an hour 

Lilian. I should be asking this of him, in the 
name of our love ! {with a gesture of despair) Joe, 
Joe — I should never have thought this — of you ! 

Joe. {turning away, unhappily) No. I 
shouldn't either. 

Lilian. You who know what my life has been! 
I felt sure of you! {leans her face on her hands) 

Joe. {ivalhing away to r. c. speaking over his 
shoulder, desperately) Willie has promised me five 
thousand pounds, if he gets the estate. 

Lilian", {letting her hands fall, and looking up 
— Trending forward to him) He has promised you 
five thousand pounds? 

Joe. Yes. 

Lilian. Why ? 

Joe. There's coal on the land — he would make 
an enormous profit 

Lilian, {looking up scornfully) So that's the 
reason ? 

Joe. Yes. Now you know. 

Lilian, {sorrowfully to him) And do you want 
the money so badly? 

Joe. (r. c.) It would make all the difference 
to me. My little May needn't go as a typewriter — 
I could send her to college 

Lilian. I see. I'm sorry, but I can't do it, 
Joe. 

Joe. {half over shoulder a step up to c.) You 
could tell him about the coal — and me. Of course 
he doesn't know. 

Lilian. And ask him to sell the place much 
under its value? That would be making the favor 
greater still? 

Joe. {turniftg from her) Yes. I've made a 
hash of it, I hadn't intended — (c.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 59 

Lilian, (rise a step to him — Softly) You 
couldn't help yourself, Joe. 

Joe. Besides, now of course he won't do it 

Lilian. He would, if / asked him! (looking 
out) (To him, — a step to c.) But what could 
I offer in return? 

Joe. (fidgetting) He would be glad to have 
helped you. 

Lilian. (looking to him) How much would it 
cost him? 

Joe. (quietly and quickly) We needn't go into 
figures. 

Lilian, (c.) Y^ou understand that I love him? 

Joe. (r. c.) You and he are old friends 

Lilian, (gets nearer to him r. c.) That I love 
him to-day as I loved him five years ago? 

Joe. (unhappily turning from her) Lilian, 
Lilian — it's not a nice business ! I'm not proud of 
being here. 

Lilian, (goes to him a step, hand on arm) 
Martha sent you ? 

Joe. Martha's a good woman, Lilian. 

Lilian. She wants me to go? 

Joe. Martha would advise nothing that wasn't 
right 

Lilian, (wistfully) She has her children who 
love her — (turns from him a little) 

Joe. (c.) She said you would do this for us 

Lilian, (turns to him — Suddenly, laying her 
hand on his arm turning him to her) Yes, I will 
do it — for you. 

Joe. (anxiously, his left seizing her right hand) 
Lilian ! 

Lilian. You have stood by me all these years — 
you have been my one friend — You have a right to 
ask this of me. 

Joe. (eagerly) It means a tremendous deal to 
me — but I wouldn't ask it — God knows I wouldn't 
— if I thought there was really anything 



eo THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Lilian, (still in the same quiet tone) No. 

Joe. And as you'll tell him about the coal — and 
the money — 

Lilian. Yes. 

Joe. Besides, he'll be away for years — perhaps 
he'll never come back 

Lilian, {breaking from him slowly. With a 
start) Perhaps he'll never come back ! (feeverishly 
— strongly) Oh, yes, I'll go. 

Joe. [looking at her with sudden alarm) 
Lilian ! 

Lilian, (calmly meeting his eyes) Yes? 

Joe. Why did you refuse Willie? 

Lilian, (gets from him a little) Because tlien 
it was impossible — But now . . . and besides, 
didn't Martha tell you I'd be glad to go, when I 
heard he was leaving? 

Joe. (wondering) Yes 

Lilian, (c.) Well, I am glad! As you say, he 
may never come back ! At least I shall see him ! 

JoE. (r. c. Nervously) Yes — you'll see him 
— and put the thing bluntly — let him know all. 
Then, if he does it 

Lilian, (c.) Oh, he'll do it! You shall have 
your money ! 

Joe. (arguing against himself) I don't know — 
when he hears about the coal 

Lilian. That will make no difference — when I 
ask him — (looking out unthout moving) 

Joe. You haven't seen him for two years — he 
may have changed — 

Lilian. Walter f He never will change. 

Joe. You were hoping he might forget 

Lilian. One says these things — one doesn't mean 
them, (half turris to him) When shall I go? 

Joe. (groiving 7nore and more nervous and ap^ 
prehensive as Lilian Tremblett becomes more ex- 
cited) Lilian 

Lilian. When, Joe — luhen? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 61 

Joe. Lilian — after all — let us think for a mo- 
ment 

Lilian. Martha saw no harm in my going? 

Joe. (with a groan) Martha sees only the five 
thousand pounds 

Lilian, (to him again — affectionately) Dear 
Joe, the money will mean so much to her ! Little 
May shall go to College 

(Joe breaJcs away.) 

— Where is Walter now ? 

Joe. He's staying with Miss Lesson. 

Lilian. With Miss Lesson? Well, tell me — 
when ? 

Joe. They sail to-morrow 

Lilian. (with sudden alarm) To-morrow! 
Then it is too late ! 

Joe. (not loohing at her) No. Write him a 
line. Say you will call. 

Lilian. When? — (getting round below settee to 
writing table L.) 

Joe. Say at — say at — I don't know — (he pauses, 
undecided — whether to let her go or not — gets up to 
c.) 

Lilian, (at desTc l. eagerly) When? 

Joe. (c.) Say at two. (gets back of arm- 
chair, hands on bach of chair) 

Lilian, (sits at her desJc, takes up her pen, then, 
with despair) I don't know what to write ! 

Joe. (dictating reluctantly) " I wish to see you 
before you go — I will call to-morrow at two " 

(Lilian writes it, repeating every word slowly as 
she writes it — Joe gets c.) 

Lilian, (turns to him) The address? 
Joe. (up c.) Care of Miss Lesson — 180 Camp- 
den House Eoad (Joseph Tremblett goes r. c.) 



62 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Lilian addresses the envelope, then puts in the 
letter — she hands it to Joe, rising.) 

Lilian, (rising and going c. to him) Here, 
Joe, post it. 

Joe. (holding the letter and balancing it in his 
hands) (Then making a sudden movement towards 
her) Oh, Lilian ! 

Lilian, (up c.) Wliat is it, Joe? 

Joe. (above her r. c. .Seizing her lurist and look- 
ing searchingly at her) Lilian, Lilian — have I 
asked too much of you? 

Lilian, (smiling softly) Martha was right — I 
shall be glad to see him again 

Joe. But 

Lilian, (c) Ah, Joe, as you said — he may 
never come back ! 

(For an instant they stand face to face; then the 
door R. opens and Willie cornes in, and halts. 
Lilian sees and ignores him — and walks quietly 
out of the room leaving door open — Joe follows 
her eyes and sees Willie.) 

(Willie rushes eagerly to Joe.) 

Willie, (hoarsely) She's written the letter? 
You've got it ? 

(Joe looks steadily at him for a good five seconds, 
then shews him the letter — turns on his heel, and 
goes without a word.) 

Curtain. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. Q^ 



ACT III. 

Scene: — Miss Lesson's Studio. A large, rather 
bare apartment, with a top light. A feiv oak 
chairs, an oalc table and chest — I'ugs on the floor. 
A pile of canvases, rolled up and strapped, stand 
against the left tvall. There are signs of packing 
about the place. At back c, is street door that 
opens inwards, showing the street, and houses on 
the opposite side of the road. There is a door n., 
leading to the inner rooms. 

(As the Curtain rises, Morgan^ the valet, is dis- 
covered humming a tune, packing a large 
lady's portmanteau, R. c.^ evidently brand 
new. He is kneeling on the floor, by his side 
are a number of cardboard boxes, the contents 
of ivhich he is transferring to the trunk. 
Throws box down heavily — up r. — as signal 
for knock. There is a sharp single knock. 
He gets up and goes to the door, c, ivhich he 
throws open. A Porter is there, with another 
cardboard box.) 

Porter. Lord Cardew? 

Morgan. Yes. This ain't the door to come to, 
though. 

Porter. Not ? 

Morgan. Tradesman's door round the corner. 

Porter. Sorry. You'll take it though, cocky — 
won't you? 

Morgan. I will — cocky. 

Porter. Sign, please. 



— Morning. 



(Morgan signs.) 
(He goes.) 



64: THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Morgan shuts the door, cuts the string, and opens 
the hox. He takes out a fur mantle, which he 
holds up and admires. Then, careful not to dis- 
turb the folds, he lays it down by the side of the 
other things, and goes on with his packing. 
Throws another box down heavily — up R. — as signal 
for knock. There is another knock — three smart 
taps. He gets up, grumbling, and goes to the door 
c, again and opens it. John Collis is outside. 
He has smartened himself up, but looks very 
shabby-genteel.) 

Collis. Lord Cardew in? 

Morgan, {with a look that sums Collis up) 
No. 

Collis. (pettishly) No — what? 

Morgan, (calmly) No — no. 

Collis. (discontentedly) H'm! When will he 
be in? 

Morgan. Have you an appointment? 

Collis. I have not. But it's urgent. 

Morgan. Better call again. 

Collis When ? 

Morgan. Say — quarter of an hour. 

Collis. Perhaps I could wait? 

Morgan. We're packing — no room. Come again. 

Collis. (pompously) Tell him Mr. John Collis 
has called — you understand, Mr. John Collis, I shall 
return in a quarter of an hour. 

Morgan, (gravely) I shall not fail to inform 
his Lordship. 

(Collis looks severly at hi^n — And goes.) 

(Morgan closes the door and returns to his packing. 
He is opening last box and about to put in the last 
dress when Miss Lesson enters from R., and pauses 
in amazement.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 55 

Miss Lesson. Heavens! What are you doing, 
Morgan ? 

Morgan. Packing, m'm. 

Miss Lesson, {peering into the trunh) Ladies' 
clothes ! Mantles ! What does this mean ? 

Morgan. Don't know, m'm. Master's orders. 

_Miss Lesson. (fingering the dresses) These 
things surely can't be for me! 

Morgan, (gravely) No, m'm. Don't think so. 
Fancy colours. 

Miss Lesson. Then for whom — ? 

Morgan, (shaking his head) Master's orders, 
m'm. Gave no explanation. 

(He puts the last dress into the trunh.) 

Miss Lesson. Extraordinary ! When were those 
orders given ? 

Morgan. This morning, m'm. 

Miss Lesson. And all these things came this 
morning ? 

Morgan. Within the last hour, m'm. Trunk 
first — then things to put in trunk. 

Miss Lesson. Gracious ! 

Morgan, (pulling down the lid of trunh) Ini- 
tials on it, m'm. 

Miss Lesson, (gets hach of trunh — stooping) 
L. A. E. Who is L. A. E? 

MoRGAN.^ Don't know, m'm. (he lochs the trunh, 
and straps it) Looks like a trosseau, m'm. (moves 
trunh to r. Standing it against chair, ready for 
removal) 

Miss Lesson, (severely) Morgan! (cross to 
table L., sits R. chair) 

Morgan, (meekly) M'm? 

Miss Lesson, (pointing to the canvas in the 
corner up L.) Put those in the case in the hall, 
please, and nail it down. 



66 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Morgan, (gets parcel — comes down c. — halts) 
I suppose you couldn't give me a sketch, ni'm ? 

Miss Lesson, (consulting her note-hook) You'd 
like one? 

Morgan. I would, m'm. To hang in the bar. 

Miss Lesson, (not turning to him) Bar? 

Morgan, (gets c.) I'm marrying, m'm — as you 
wouldn't take me with you. A public house. 

Miss Lesson. With a lady attached, I suppose ? 

Morgan, (c.) Y^es, m'm. Pleasant, comfort- 
able female. Wouldn't have done it though, if you 
hadn't sacked me. 

Miss Lesson, (half turned to him) What 
would you do in Canada? We're sorry to lose you, 
of course. Well, I hope you'll be happy. 

Morgan. Country tavern m'm. Bar's very snug. 
(Step away r.) Will you give me a picture? 

Miss Lesson. You should have asked me before. 
They're all strapped up. 

Morgan, (putting bundle on chair R.) Undo 'em 
in half a minute, m'm. 

(He begins eagerly to unstrap the canvas; a latch- 
Tcey is heard in the outer door.) 

Miss Lesson Take them away — I'll come di- 
rectly — 

Morgan. Very well, m'm. 

(He goes r.^ bearing the canvases, as Walter comes 
in through the front door.) 

Walter. Ah ! Aunt Susan ! 

Miss Lesson, (going eagerly to him) Walter! 
what's all this? (she points to the trunJc) 

Walter. Ah ! They've sent the things — 

Miss Lesson. Apparently — For whom? 

Walter. I hadn't time to tell you. They're — for 
Lilian. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 67 

Miss Lesson, (staring) For Lilian! 

Walter, {up c.) Yes. She's coming here. 

Miss Lesson, (l. c.^ in growing amazement) 
Lilian is coming here? 

Walter, (c.^ nodding) Yes. He has sent her, 
of course. To ask me to sell the place. I told you it 
was he who wanted to buy. She writes she'll be 
here at two. 

Miss Lesson. She has written? Amazing! I 
saw her yesterday — she said nothing. 

Walter, (c.) She says nothing now, except that 
she'll come. 

Miss Lesson, (pause) So you went out and 
bought things? 

Walter. Yes. — At least Carter did — my mother's 
old lady's maid, you know. (Up c. to put hat on 
rack) I rushed on to her. She's about the same 
height as Lilian. (Returns down c.) 

Miss Lesson, (grimly) (sits r. of table) I see. 
An elopement ? 

Walter. If she'll consent. 

Miss Lesson, (seated) Mad, Walter! 

Walter, (quietly) He forbade me the house — 
refused to let me see her, or write to her. Now he 
has forced her to come here and beg me to sell Cardew 
Towers, (c.) 

Miss Lesson. How do you know all this ? 

Walter. I know Lilian. 

Miss Lesson. And you want to carry her off? 

Walter. If she'll let me. 

(A silence. They look fixedly at each other.) 

Miss Lesson, (pause — rises and gets c, to him 
a step) And how about me f 

Walter, (gets to her, hands on her elbows) It 
all rests with you. You make it possible. 

Miss Lesson, (satirical) Indeed ? 

Walter, (steps forward to her) She's your god- 



68 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

danghter — she'll be under your protection — your 
friend — 

]\Iiss Lesson. And you? 

Walter. I am also her friend. 

]^Jiss Lesson. And you imagine her husband will 
!jelieve — 

Walter. I am not concerned with her husband. 
{Gets up R.^ turns hack to her) 

]\[iss Lesson. And the world? 

Walter. By the world you mean London — we're 
going to Canada. 

Miss Lesson. And her reputation? 

Walter, {turns to her) People will talk. Out 
there we shan't hear them. {Up R.) 

Miss Lesson, {shaking her head) Mad, Walter, 
■ — mad! {Gets l. — heloiv table.) 

Walter. Perhaps. — I've been sane so long! 

Miss Lesson. Besides — she won't! 

Walter. We shall see. 

Miss Lesson. And if she will, I won't. 

Walter, {turns to he?-) You will. 

Miss Lesson. Why? 

Walter. Because you are just. 

^Iiss Lesson. Where does the justice come in? 

Walter, {gets down to her c.) {with the first 
touch of feeling he has shown) Her husband is a 
brute. Her visit to-day is a fresh proof of that. 
Imagine what it must mean to her to beg this of me ! 
And there is no one to help her — she has no money — • 
she never can leave him. 

Miss Lesson. Things are no different now from 
what they were, {goes l.) 

Walter, (c.) He makes them different. We've 
never met, or attempted to meet — we've never writ- 
ten. Tie throws us together. 

Miss Lesson, (l., ivith a touch of sarcasm) 
You've arranged it all ! These clothes — 

Walter. She must have clothes, {turns up to 
trunk) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 69 

Miss Lesson, (l.) And the initials on the 
trunk ? 

Walter. Her maiden name. (looJcing at trunk) 

Miss Lesson. You've divorced her already ! 

Walter, (decided turn to her) If she comes 
here to-day she at least shall never go back to him. 

Miss Lesson, (up to him) My poor Walter! 
(hand on his arm) But it can't be! 

Walter. I know I'm asking a great deal of you, 
Aunt Susan — 

Miss Lesson, (still up to him c.) I'm not 
strait-laced, or conventional — (hand away) — you 
know that. But it can't be ! 

Walter, (quietly) I'm an honest man — I think 
you can trust me. Till he has a divorce, or she — that 
may be possible in America ! — but, till then, Lilian 
is my friend, and yours, under your protection. 

Miss Lesson. And if there be no divorce? 

Walter. She will at least have escaped — from 
him. 

Miss Lesson, (pause) Think of my position, 
if I consented ! — I'm old to play gooseberry ! 

Walter. (still in the same quiet, grave, un- 
emotional tones) There shall never be a word of 
love between us, till that word can be honestly spoken. 

Miss Lesson, (turns from him) No man is 
capable of — 

Walter. Except a man who loves. 

(A hnoch.) 

— That will be she ! 

(He rushes eagerly to the door, and opens it. Collis 

is there.) 

Collis. Lord Cardew? 

(Miss Lesson crosses to r. c, and sits in arm chair 

E.) 



70 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Walter, (impatiently) Yes. What is it? 
CoLLis. I want a word with you. 
Walter. What about? 

CoLLis. (excited) Cardew Towers. Most im- 
portant. 

Walter, (at door) You come from the agents? 

COLLIS. No. 

Walter. (annoyed) What then? I've no 
time — 

CoLLis. (edging his way in) Please let me come 
in. The matter is vital. 



(Walter admits liim, unioillingly. Before closing 
the door, he looJcs at his ivatch, then up and down 
the road.) 

Walter, (a step down) I can give you two 
minutes. I'm in a hurry, expecting someone. Be 
quick, please. 

CoLLis. My name is John Collis. I am Joe 
Tremblett's brother-in-law. 

Walter, (up l. c.) (Impatiently) Well? 

Collis. (up r. c.) Lord Cardew, I have certain 
information about your estate. I want a thousand 
pounds for it. 

Walter, (pause) Thank you. (Point to door) 
Go, please. 

Collis. (eagerly) The information will be 
worth a hundred times what I ask — 

Walter. I make no bargain in the dark. Good 
morning. 

Collis. (nervously) For a hundred down — 

Walter. I've told you. (He shouts) Morgan! 

Collis. Lord Cardew, I'll leave the reward to 
you. There ivill be a reward? 

Walter. How can I tell? If ^^ou've anything to 
say, say it. 

Miss Lesson. Speak, man! 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. Yl 

CoLLis. (coming down c. a .step — sullenly) 
There's coal on the land. 

Walter. What ? 

Miss Lesson. Coal! 

CoLLis. Yes. 

Miss Lesson. You say that — how do you know? 

CoLLis. I do know. 

Miss Lesson. How? 

CoLLis. I know it with absolute certainty. 

Miss Lesson. You're wasting time. Hoiu do 
you know it? 

CoLLis. {embarrassed) I — overheard — a con- 
versation — between Willie Tremblett and Joe — 

(Walter moves l. ahove table.) 

Miss Lesson, (scornfully) Eavesdropping! 

CoLLis. (turning front) Quite by accident. 

Miss Lesson. Of course. 

CoLLis (biting his nails) There is coal. That's 
why Willie Tremblett wants to buy. He has had 
secret advice. 

Walter. (up l. c.^ above table) (Quietly) 
Well? Anything more? 

(Pause.) 

Collis. (almost in a sJirieTc) More! That's 
enough, I should think ! You know what it means ? 

Miss Lesson, (rises gets up r. c, a step) I've 
heard about you. You sponge on Joe Tremblett ? 

Collis. (sullenly) He — he — has helped me. — 
(to Walter) Well, now I've told you. You 
promised a reward. 

Walter, (turns to him) If the information was 
of value. It is not. 

Collis. (tuildly) Not! Not of value! 

Walter. I've told you. Good morning. 

Collis. (almost hysterical) They want to buy 
it because of the coal. Well, now of course you 



Y2 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

won't sell. You can get thousands more — fifty, a 
hundred — 

Walter, (a step to Mm) But I shall sell, Mr. 
Collis. 

CoLLis. (aghast.) What! What! 

Miss Lesson, (r. c.) You overheard, you say» 
How do we know you're speaking the truth ? 

Collis. (bacJcing out) It's true, I swear it! 
Give me fifty pounds ! 

Walter. Good-day, Mr. Collis. (He flings open 
the door) 

Collis. (backing) It's disgraceful — disgrace- 
ful ! {Gets L. of door) 

Miss Lesson, {sternly) That's what Judas 
Iscariot said, when people turned from him. The 
door ! 

Collis. I won't go — I won't! {Going, hacking 
yet) 

Walter, (r. of door) One thing I'll promise — 
I won't tell Joe Tremblett what a scoundrel you are. 
Though he probably knows. Now, go. 

Collis. You won't give me anything? 

Walter. No. 

Collis. {hanging on to the door-post) You 
won't sell — I know that. I know it's only pretence 
— I— 

{Losing patience, Walter takes him hy the shoulder, 
pushes him out and closes door.) 

(Walter comes down. Pause. He and Miss Les- 
son look at each other.) 

Miss Lesson, (r. c.) The man's speaking the 
truth. 

Walter, {comes c.) Of course. {Pause.) The 
secret's ont. 

Miss Lesson, (r. c.) That's why Tremblett 
wants to buy! But — {wonderingly) Joe — Joe! 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. ^3 

That fellow overheard Tremblett telling Joe — Oh, 
I've a terrible suspicion. 

Walter. What ? 

Miss Lesson. That Tremblett wanted Joe to use 
his influence on Lilian— 

Walter. Absurd ! 

Miss Lesson. Bribed him — 

Walter. Can you suspect Joe? 

Miss Lesson, {slight pause, half turns front) 
No — you're right — he's a fine man — told him so 
yesterday. He'd never lend himself — no ! (Sharply) 
—But— (Quietly) Walter— well? (Going to him) 
If there's coal? 

Walter. That makes no difference. If Lilian 
asks me to sell, I'll sell. 

Miss Lesson, (amazed, a step away, evenly) 
You'll let him have the place at his price ? 

Walter. Yes. (He looJcs at his watch) She's 
late. 

Miss Lesson, (hesitatingly) Of course if there's 
coal — 

Walter. (sharply) It doubles the value — or 
trebles it. (A step down c.) What do I care ! (Go- 
ing to her a step) (Quickly) But, Aunt Susan, 
you've not yet told me — 

Miss Lesson. You realise what it would mean? 
You could never come home again — 

Walter. Where Lilian is, there is my home. 

Miss Lesson. Give up — everything? 

Walter. It will be for her. 

Miss Lesson, (almost wistfully — short pause) 
How you love her! 

Walter, (simply gives a nod — goes to her — he 
taTces her hand) I beg this of you. Aunt Susan ! 

Miss Lesson. I can only hope she'll have sense 
enough — 

Walter, (gladly) Then you will? 

Miss Lesson. (brightly) Folly's catching! 
(Hands on his shoulders) What's the time? 



^4 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Walter. Nearly three. (With sudden anxiety) 
Heavens — if — 

Miss Lesson. She may have thought better of 
it— 

(Morgan" comes in from r.) 

Morgan. The luggage is going off, my lord. 
Walter. Take this trunk and send it with the 
rest. 

(Morgan hechons to Coachman off R., who enters and 
takes tru7ih off r.) 

Morgan. Here's the key, my lord. 

(Walter tahes it.) 

(to Miss Lesson) I haven't done up the pictures 
yet, m'm. 

(There is a shy Jcnoch at doors c, — Walter rushes 
up eagerly.) 

Miss Lesson, (craning her neck to see whether 
it he Lilian) I'll come with you now. 

(Walter has thrown open wide the door; Lilian 
stands outside.) 

(With a shrug of the shoulders. Miss Lesson follows 
Morgan off r.) 

Walter. (Lilian is coming down) (Softly) 
Lilian ! Lilian ! 

(She enters; he closes the door. For a moment they 
stand, looking almost shyly at each other. There 
is silence — Lilian moves a little distance from 
him. In her hand she carries a large square en- 
velope which she now holds out.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. Y5 

Lilian, {doivn r. c.) (Softly) I've come to — 

Walter. (interrupting eagerly) Yes, yes — I 
know — to ask me to sell the Towers to your husband. 
(Gets down to l. c, facing her) I will, of course. 
What is that you hold in your hand ? 

Lilian. The deed for you to sign. 

Walter. Give it to me — 

(Both extend hand — he takes deed.) 

I'll sign it. (Cross to table) 

(Pause. He looJcs iiito her eyes — takes the envelope 
and opens it, and gets l. to l. of table — sits. 
Lilian holds up her hand.) 

Lilian, (cross to r. of table) Wait! — there's 
coal on the land. 

Walter, (quietly nodding) I know. 
Lilian, (amazed) You know? 
Walter. Yes. (Looking through deed) 

(He sits and is about to sign.) 

Lilian, (r. c.) And Joe — Joe will get five 
thousand pounds — 

Walter, (surprised looking up) Joe ! 

Lilian. Y"es. (Going to table, r. of table) I 
was to tell you, he said — you were to know every 
thing. 

(Walter looks up.) 

Ah ! poor Joe ! He hated doing it ! But it's for his 
little daughter. 

Walter. I see. 

Lilian. He has been my one friend — and such a 
friend ! — these two years. 

Walter, (slowly) Yes — (rising) — it's been two 



76 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

years . . . And for three years before that, once 
a month, on your At Home days . . . Lilian! 

Lilian. {smiling faintly) Yes. . . . Oh, 
Walter, I'm glad to see you ! 

Walter. I'm going away. {Across table) 

Lilian. I know. This afternoon? 

Walter. Almost immediately. — Y^ou're late. 

Lilian. Yes. I . . . hesitated. 

Walter. Why ? 

Lilian. Why? Ah, Walter! But the thought 
that you might never come back ! — You will ? 

Walter. No. {ShaJces head) 

Lilian. You will! I ask it, // It would be too 
terrible ! 

Walter. {hoarsely) Do you remember — Oh, 
Lilian, do you remember — the day when I told you 
I loved you? 

Lilian. {Jcnuchles of left hand on tahle) Yes. 
But we had known long before that — even as child- 
ren ... So you will do this for me 
In five years you will come back — at latest in five 
years 

Walter. {Jcnuchles of left hand on tahle) Wher- 
ever I've been, Lilian — wherever I've been ! . . . 
I've no photograph — I needed none ... I could 
see you, talk to you — almost hear what you were say- 
ing .. . 

Lilian. Am I — changed, Walter? 

Walter. Changed ! How could you change ? 
When I got your letter this morning — I had never 
dared to hope — 

Lilian. Nor I, nor I ! And I wouldn't be here, 
but for Joe. When he said you might never come 
back ! Never ! — It was Martha sent him. The poor 
things need the money so badly ! W^ien I found that 
my coming to-day would bring them the money — 
then I was glad — glad! Though of course it's 
wrong — 

Walter. Why ? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. Y7 

Lilian. Because I knew you wouldn't refuse! 
(Looking down) And what right had / to ask such 
a favour? 

Walter. Is there anything you could ask of me 
that I wouldn't do? Don't you know the joy that 
it gives me? 

Lilian", (slightly stretching out her hands) So 
you'll come back, Walter — won't you? It's selfish of 
me — but there's so little that I have to live for ! — 
Miss Lesson says I've spoiled your life — and of 
course I have — but that can't be helped now. And 
your life is my life. Walter! (Hands clasped) 

Walter, (firmly) You will come with us, Lilian. 

Lilian, (startled) What is that you say! (A 
step away) 

Walter. Yes — with my aunt and me. (Insist- 
ing) You are her god-daughter, and my friend. We 
shall at least see each other. 

Lilian, (a step hacTc, staring at him, frightened) 
Walter ! 

Walter, (quietly) So you will come. — My aunt 
knows — she approves ... It has to be, Lilian. 
We have borne it all very patiently, have we not? 
Had you been happy — ah, then, you would never have 
heard of me . . . But, as it is . . . (change 
of tone) He wants Cardew Towers because there 
is coal — well, he shall have the place — he should have 
it if all the gold in the world were there ! (Intensely) 
But you shall come to Canada — with us ! 

Lilian, (appealing) Walter, Walter ! Don't ask 
this of me ! I have no strength — he has crushed me ! 
(Sinks into chair) Let us say good-bye to each other 
— let me go back! (drooping head over table) 

Walter. Why? We demand so little, we two! 
To be allowed to live, that's all, and see each other! 
And there, in the great solitude — think of it, Lilian, 
not even a village, the nearest town miles away — a 
farm, a house built of logs — oh, Lilian, we shall be 
together, for the rest of our life ! 



78 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Lilian. Walter, have pity ! (Rise) (Extends 
left hand to him over table) If you stretch out your 
hand I'll follow — I must, I can't help it! (Turns 
away) But you will not. Walter, let me go back ! 

Walter. No. It was he sent you to me — he has 
decided. 

(Lilian turns to him.) 

You will come with us, Lilian. 

Lilian, (crossing r.) No one would miss me — 
no one — and I am so bruised, I have been so un- 
happy! . . . (Sinks into chair r.) No one 
would miss me — there only is Joe. (With a sudden 
start — rise and get R.) Ah, Joel I had forgotten 
Joe! 

Walter, (loolcing at her with surprise) Joe? 

Lilian. Yes, Joe! Wliat would he think? Oh, 
I daren't do it — I daren't ! 

Walter, (comes c.) Joe will get his five thou- 
sand pounds. 

Lilian, (almost indignantly) Do you imagine 
he'd take the money if I went away ! No — no — 
when I think of him ! I can't do it, Walter ! (A step 
to him) He'd blame me — he'd say it was wrong — 
and it is wrong, I see it now ! 

(Walter attempts to speaTc.) 

Walter, don't say any more! I can't do it — (Bach a 
step) — because of Joe! 

Walter. (c.) Shall Joe stand between us H 
Lilian ! 

Lilian, (r. c.) There have been days of such 
sorrow — such black, bitter sorrow — and I sent for 
Joe — he always came. He is — oh, how can I tell 
you! — I don't know what he is — he's good, I sup- 
pose (a step to him) — that's all . . . But I'll 
go back, because of Joe ! 

Walter. When he sent you to me, he knew — 

Lilian. No, no, you mustn't say that ! Willie 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. ^9 

gave me no peace — day after day — we knew he would 
never forgive me if I hadn't obeyed him ! But Joe 
didn't like my going — he urged me against himself. 
(Pause) Poor Joe, as he stood there, holding the 
letter in his hand! (Extends right hand) It was 
for little May — to send her to College. Ah, don't you 
see? If I went with you — (appealing to him) Joe 
would reproach himself for the rest of his life ! 

Walter, (passionately) Not even for Joe's sake 
can you refuse me, Lilian — not even for Joe ! 

Lilian, (r.^ not moving close to chair) Ah, 
Walter, I must ! (Her head droops down) 

Walter. (a step to her, quietly and evenly) 
Have you forgotten that afternoon when you first 
told me? We sat in the orchard — in the next field a 
boy was whistling — you told me that you loved me, 
and you kissed me. 

Lilian", (sinking on to a seat, and burying her 
head in her hands) Walter! 

Walter, (with emotion, close to her chair) There 
were tears rolling down your face — there were tears 
in the kiss you gave me — the one kiss I've had from 
you, all my life . . . And I've been waiting, 
waiting, these — many — years . . . Ah, Lilian, 
have you forgotten ? Do / not come first ? 

Lilian, (dropping her head lower and lower) 
Walter ! 

Walter, (strongly, a step up) For an instant 
then, I held you close to me . . . (Change of 
tone) The next day I spoke to your father — T 
scarcely have seen you since. — Ah, Lilian, I'm fond 
of Joe, too, but you must come with me! (Opens 
arms) 

Lilian. (springing up, passionately) Yes, 
Walter — yes ! I will ! 

(Walter looTcs as though he would rush towards her. 
With a mighty effort he controls himself. There 
is a moment's silence, as they look at each other.) 



80 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

{There is a loud, imperious knock at the door.) 

Walter, (r. g., starting at knocking, dropping 
his arms) Who can that be? 

{The knock is repeated.) 

Lilian, (r) Open, Walter! {Quietly). 

{He goes to the door, throws it open. Joe stands 

there.) 
Joe! 

(Walter has fallen hack l. of door, as Joe comes in 
and closes the door. The tivo men make no at- 
tempt at salutation. Joe is looking haggard and 
anxious. He flashes a quick, uneasy glance at 
Walter — then goes brusquely to Lilian.) 

Joe. {doivn c.) I've come to take you home. 

Walter, {up c. stepping forivard) No! 

Joe. {turning to Walter fiercely) No! What 
do you mean? {He takes Lilian hy the hatid) 
Come. {To Walter) It must be about time for 
you to go. 

Walter. Lilian goes with us. 

Joe. (r. c. ivith a strident laugh) With you? 
Have you taken leave of your senses, Walter? 

Walter, (c.) Miss Lesson is her god-mother — 
she will be under her protection — 

Joe. {roughly) Eubbish, rubbish! She's com- 
ing home with me, now. 

Walter. I've told her I'll sign the deed — 

Joe. (r. c.) llie deed! But you've a right to 
fling that at me. I've acted like a cur — yes, a cur. — 
But at least it's not too late. I'm here, thank God. 
Walter, — {turns to him) You've been a brave man 
all tliese years — 

Walter, (c.) Ask her. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 81 

(Joe turns to Lilian.) 

Lilian, (r.) I must go with him, Joe! 

Joe. (aghast) Lilian! ! 

Lilian. I've suffered too much ! I can't ! 

Joe. (turning fiercely on Walter, a step up c.) 
This is your doing! You've tried to persuade her — 
talked of your love — (with bitter scorn) — your love! 
But it won't help you ! I was right, I see, in not 
trusting you ! She's coming home — with me ! (a 
step to her hand outstretched to her) 

Walter, (quietly) Wait! 

(He rings — then goes to the table, taTces the deed, 
signs it, searches on the front page, mahes an al- 
teration, and signs that. Joe stares vaguely at 
him, not Tcnowing what he is doing. Lilian stands 
rigid and motionless.) 

— This iirst of all. I've signed the deed. 

Joe. (passionately) Damn the deed! (clenches 
hand and gets up to table) 

Walter. There must be no suspicion of a bargain. 
I know about the coal, and the rest. Whether Lilian 
goes with me, or stays, the deed is signed — 

(Morgan enters and gets l. by back.) 

— because she asked me. 

(Joe is about to make a fierce reply, when Mor- 
gan comes in.) 

(To Morgan) I want you to witness my signature. 
Write your name here. 

(Morgan does so. Joe paces to c, and up c.) 

(Walter turns the page) — And here. 



82 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Morgan signs again.) 

Morgan. The carriage is here, my lord, (gives 
pen to Walter) 

Walter, (loohing at his watch) We've time. 
Morgan. Miss Lesson said I was to tell you — 
Walter. Go, go ! 

(Morgan retires r.) 

(Joe has heen raging, gets c.) 

— (holding up the deed, and stopping Joe) Here 
is the deed; (he lays it on the table) I've made one 
alteration — inserted your name as buyer. I sell it to 
yon, not your brother. Make your terms with him. 

Joe. (in despair — looking out) I deserve this, I 
deserve it! (sinking into chair r. of table) He 
thinks he can buy me! 

Walter. Buy you — why? She asked me to sell — 
I sell — but to you. That^s all. Transfer it to him — 
do what you like. Now — we've finished with that. 
And I ask you to tell me why Lilian should not 
come. 

Joe. (scornfully) Why she should not elope — 
with you ! 

Walter. (standing up l. of table — quietly) 
There's no question of an elopement — she goes with 
her god-mother. 

Joe. Kubbish! (half turn in chair) 

Walter, (pause — with dignity) Joe, when I say 
a thing, or promise a thing, I like to be believed. 

Joe. (thumping table) And then — even then? 
She's married, isn't she? She's Willie's wife? (rise) 
Come, Lilian! (gets to c.) 

(He tries to take her hand — she shrinks from him.) 

Lilian, (r. c.) Joe, Joe, you who've seen it all 
— who've been there — 

Joe. (c.) We can't command happiness — we 
must do what is right. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 83 

Walter, {coming l. c.) Your brother ill-treats 
her — makes her life a hell — 

Joe. He's her husband — a wife must not run 
away from her husband — 

Walter. The husband who sent her to me! 

Joe. That was my doing too ! Tear up the deed, 
tear it up ! She refused to obey him — it was I, I, 
who persuaded her. Because of the money! I did 
it, because of the money ! Walter, Walter, you and I 
are her friends, the only friends she has, I've been 
false to her — well, you be loyal ! {movement) 
Walter, I've admired you so much all these years — 
don't spoil it ! 

Walter, {eagerly) {up to him a step) You 
think she should go back — spend the rest of her life — 
with this man who hates her? 

Joe. Hate, hate — why hate? Besides, that's not 
true. He's a bully, I know, he cares only for money. 
But still she's his wife. And there's duty — there's 
law. One must not set oneself above the law. 

Lilian. Joe! {a step to him) Joe, he's so cruel 
to me! 

Joe. It's hard — {turning to her) — of course it's 
hard. You shouldn't have married him — that was 
the mistake. But you did it, and you are his wife, 
the mother of his dead child. You can't get over 
that, Lilian ! You must do what's right ! 

Walter, {a step to him c.) What's right — yes. 
Well, can it be right that she, who was forced into 
this marriage by her father — forced, mind you — you 
know it as well as I — can it be right that there should 
be no hope for her, no escape? 

Joe. {facing them both) Words, Walter, words! 
One can say these things ! {down c, and turns) 
You know what I think of Willie! 

(Walter gives a little c.) 
But listen, both of you! You're my best friends — 



84 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

after my wife and children, I'm fonder of you than of 
anyone else in the world, {hack to audience c.) If 
I felt it could be done I'd be only too glad to say go — 
go away together — go and be happy ! But it can't be 
— it's wrong — it's not merely a question of sentiment 
— it's wrong, wrong! 

(Walter gets l. c, tries to speah.) 

(warn curtain.) 

— No — let me finish ! (gets up r. c.) You two love 
each other, and you imagine that justifies all. It 
doesn't ! Lilian has entered into an agreement, a 
compact — divine or not, it binds her. She must do 
her duty. Her case is not an exception — there's a 
woman she knows, worse off than she, who is only 
kept straight by Lilian's example. (to Lilian) 
Isn't that so ? Y^ou see, you can't answer ! And that 
w^oman will have a friend too, whom she encourages 
to do the right thing. And so it travels. Lilian, 
you're Willie's wife — you've your duty — ^happy or 
not, you've got to do it ! That's what we're here for. 
To do our duty, and help others to do the same. Oh, 
Walter, Walter, you love each other — don't degrade 
that love! (stretches out a liand to each) 

Morgan, (off r.) It's time, my lord! 

Walter. (shouting) Coming! (to Joseph 
fiercely) Others, others! She sacrificed herself once, 
for her father — now you want her to do it for others ! 

Joe. Y^es. 

Walter. Her father sold her — ^^^es, sold her — 

Joe. And still she must do what is right. 

Walter, (l. c.) My aunt goes with us — she ap- 
proves — 

Joe. (c) She has not thought it out — she sees 
only one side — 

Walter. Why should you be more rigid, you who 
are Lilian's friend ? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 85 

Morgan, (off r.) My lord, we shall miss the 
train ! 

Joe. Because I'm her friend ! Go, Walter ! 

Walter. Lilian, Lilian, come with me ! 

Lilian, (a step to Joe) Let me, Joe! Let me! 

Joe. (seizing her hand) Lilian, you must come 
home ! 

Lilian (hreal-ing from him, siueeping up to c. 
door — turns and faces front R.) Home! To the 
four walls, the four empty walls ! My child is dead 
— my husband sent me here ! Am I to go back to 
him now? Have I not suffered enough? Is death 
the only release? Joe, Joe, I'll do what you tell 
me — but — but — be merciful ! (appealing to Joe, 
gets R. extends left hand to Joe, which he tahes — 

Walter, (gets c. and clasps Joe's hand) Yes — 
be merciful, Joe ! 

Joe. (after a second's pause during which he has 
stared haggardly at them both, goes to the door) 
God forgive me if I do wrong! (and flings it open) 

(Walter gets to doors quicldij — talces hat and exits. 
Lilian follows, halting for a second as though to 
spealc to Joe, hut refrains and passes out, runs to 
the carriage, which is drawn up outside. ]Miss 
Lesson has had her head out of the ivindow — she 
waves her hand to Joe, then holds it to Lilian 
and helps her in. The carriage drives off. Joe 
has not moved; he closes door with a hang as coach 
drives off, and stands with hack to door staring 
out at audience as the Curtain falls.) 

curtain. 

Note. — If introduction of carriage on to stage be im- 
practicable, then Miss Lesson can be discovered, when tlie 
door is opened, standing witli Morgan and the coachman 
behind her, these two holding rugs, etc. 



86 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

ACT IV. 

Scene: Joe's Study. 

(May is perched on a small step-ladder hanging up 
a photograph of Velasquez's Little Princess. 
Martha is helping her. She looks serious and 
perturbed. May is chatting volubly.) 

May. (Martha has her right arm round May's 
waist and her left hand resting on mantelshelf) 
Quick, mother — quick ! We must get it up before 
he comes in ! It'll be such a surprise to him. Oh, 
how he'll love it ! And wasn't it nice of them 
to let me (turns from picture and puts hand on 
Martha's shoulder) have it so cheap? I've only 
a sovereign, I told them, altogether. — Well, they said, 
you can have it in a cheaper frame. But I wanted 
that frame — father always said there should be a 
black frame, with a wide mount. Oh, I could nearly 
have cried ! And then the master came out — the 
chief shopman, I mean — and he said " All right, 
my dear, you can have it ! " He called me " My 
dear ! '' but I didn't mind ! Wasn't it sweet of him, 
mother? Oh, I could have hugged him! (she 
finally adjusts the picture) There! I think that's 
right. Is it straight, mother? 

Martha, (eyeing it judiciously) Yes. 

May. Let me come down and look, (she trips 
doivn the ladder, steps bach, and squints at the pho- 
tograph) A little more to the right! Hold the 
ladder, mumsie ! 

(Martha drops to r. c.) 

(she runs up again, and adjusts it) That will do, 
I think, (she runs down) Yes — that's good. Oh, 



I'HE PRICE OF MONEY. 87 

mother, won't he be pleased? Of course, he could 
buy it himself, now that he has all that money, (she 
turns eagerly to Martha Tremblett) Do tell me 
who left it him, Mother ! (coming down to Martha 
Tremblett) 

Martha. Never mind about that, dear. 

May. I should so like to know! I think you 
might tell me ! If he could only see, whoever it was, 
how happy he has made us all ! 

Martha, (slowly, with averted eyes) Yes 

May. (turning and looking at her) How funny 
you are ! I can't make you out ! Why aren't you 
more pleased? 

Martha, (forcing a smile) Do you want me 
too to run up and down the ladder. May ? 

May. No — but you should be happier ! Oh, ever 
so much ! 

Martha, (tvistfully) Don't you think I am, 
dear? 

May. Of course, you must be! (kiss) Oh, 
(crosses to l. jumping) when I woke up this morning, 
and said to myself ^' College ! " I tell you, I didn't 
need calling twice! My, how I jumped out of bed! 
And I danced round fat, grumpy Sarah, till she 
thought I was crazy ! And, do you know, I'd like to 
— (lip to it) take that old typewriter there and chop 
it into small bits! I would! How it has plagued 
me, the nasty, stupid old thing! 

(Martha gets down r. to her writing desk.) 

I'd make a bonfire of it ! (up c.) 

(Door clicks as Collis comes in and shuts it — CoL- 
Lis steps forward — she sees him.) 

Oh, Uncle John ! (she dances round him) Uncle 
John, Uncle John ! (she dances down l. and turns 
to Martha) Does he know, mother? 



88 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

CoLLis {up !>., sourly) About the wonderful 
change in your fortunes ? Oh, yes ! 

Martha, (stepping up to May and taking her 
across to door sloivlij) You know? 

(May gets up L. and then l. c. up stage.) 

CoLLis. (squarely) I do. Certainly. And I 
congratulate you, of course. 

Martha, (gives a startled looh at him — then 
turns quicJcly to May) Go now, dear — there's a good 
girl. I want to speak to your uncle. 

May. (pouting) Mother! 

Martha, (moving her gently to door — hands on 
May's shoidders) Leave us, dear. 

May. I must be there when father conies in and 
sees his Velasquez 

Martha, (at door) I will call you. May 

(May goes unwillingly pulling a face at Collis. 
Martha has not taken her eyes off him, comes 
down L. c.) 

Collis. (with all the malice at his command) 
And you are the person who has been so fond of giv- 
ing me lectures ! 

Martha. (facing him l. c.) What do you 
mean? (cross to him, then r. c.) 

Collis. Temple of all the virtues, aren't you? 
(as she crosses he turns after her) Quite another 
mother of the Gracchi ? Such a fine woman ! 

Martha, (down R. c. Boldly) If you've any- 
thing to say, say it. 

Collis. (down l. c, viciously) We grudge our 
brother a few shillings, don't we — and tell him he 
sponges on poor Joe, and is a disgrace to the family ? 
But it's no disgrace to the family when there are five 
thousand pounds to be made ! 

Martha, {very pale) Y^ou know? 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 89 

CoLLis. Yes. I do. 

Martha. Well? 

CoLLis. Oh, nothing ! I don't stand in, of course 
— but then 7\e no influence over a handsome sister- 
in-law. / can't send her to a man's rooms to ask 
favours of him 

Martha, {-firmly, a step to him) John, I won't 
have it ! 

CoLLis. Oh, a pretty business ! So highly moral, 
and up-to-date! And now, of course, there's a 
pleasant scene of family rejoicing. And fine, honest 
Joe Tremblett — (l. c.) great, big-hearted Joe — will 
pocket his nice little cheque, and puff himself out, 
and say " Oh, I am so good ! " 

Martha, (r. c. loildly) I don't know how you've 
found this out, but we've notliing to be ashamed of — 
nothing! And I tell you 

(May rushes in, dragging Joe round top of table to 

picture r.) 

May. {dancing with excitement) Father, father 
— look ! {she hauls him in front of the Velasquez) 
Well? 

Joe. {wistfully) Dear little May ! You bought 
that for me? 

May. Y^es, daddy — yes ! Aren't you pleased ? 

Martha, {gets up r. and puts her hand on May's 
arm) May ! 

(Joe hends over May and hisses her.) 

May. All right, mother. 

Martha. {gently pushing May towards the 

door) May dear 

May. Oh, mother, you might let me stop ! 
Martha. Please ! 

(May goes, loolcing hacTc and mahing faces at Col- 
Lis as she goes. Martha waits till the child 
has left the room and closed the door — then she 
goes to Joe, and lays a hand on his arm.) 



90 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Martha. Joe! (up top of table) 

Joe. (up R. looking from her to John Collis, 
who hasn't budged) Well? 

Martha. Joe — he knows about Lilian 

Joe. (startled) What? 

Collis. That you were to get five thousand 
pounds if she went to Lord Cardew's rooms. 

Joe. (fiercely) Well? Wliat business is it of 
yours? (comes down and up) 

Collis. Of mine ? Oh, none, of course — none ! 
It has nothing to do with me. I was merely telling 
my sister — — 

Martha, (above table) He has been very in- 
sulting, Joe. 

Joe. (stepping menacingly towards John Col- 
lis) What? 

Collis. (retreating a pace or two, but still holding 
his own) Don't you come the bully over me, Joe 
Tremblett ! And insulting — why ? Your wife has 
been in the habit of lecturing me, these many years 
past. I merely remarked that she didn't seem so 
very particular, when there was money to be made! 

Joe. (c.) (looking fixedly at him) (to him a 
step) What do you mean by that? 

Collis. (jeering) You know what I mean, Joe 
Tremblett ! You know what you've done for your 
five thousand pounds ! 

(Joe tries to reply, but cannot — He hangs his head.) 

(triumphantly) You know what other people would 
call it, Mr. Tremblett ! 

Martha, (from up side of table and to Joe's 
side down r. c. indignantly) What could they call 
it ? He has done nothing to be ashamed of 

Collis. Hasn't he? Look at him! 

(Martha turns, and looks at Joe. He stands with 
his head drooping.) 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 91 

Martha, (appealing) Joe! 

(With an effort Joe braces himself and turns 
squarely to Collis.) 

Joe. (c) See here, John Collis! We'xe known 
each other a good long time, haven't we? Well, it's 
true — I've sunk to your level 

Martha. Joe ! 

Joe. (still looking at Collis) It's a fact — I 
have — there's no use denying it — Well, Mr. Collis — 
and then? 

Collis. (l. c. disconcerted) And then, and 
then! I don't suppose you'd like all the world to 
know 

Joe. (c.) You can cry it on every housetop — 
or rather in every gutter ! But if you show your (a 
step to him) — face here again 

Collis. (a step hach deprecatingly) Tut, tut, 
Joe — don't be so angry ! You can't take a joke ! 

Joe. (grimly) (clenching fists) Do you fancy 
7'm joking? (a step to him) 

Collis. (l. trying to he genial) You do flare up 
so! I — I only was chaffing! Why, hang it, you 
don't really think I blame you ? I was merely telling 
Martha — — 

Joe. (l. c.) Never mind what you told Martha. 
We've finished. 

Collis. (l.) Why, my dear chap, you'd have 
been a fool to let a chance like this go by ! You've 
done what everyone would have been glad to do — I'd 
have done it myself — I would ! 

(Joe makes an angry movement towards him, 
clenches fists again.) 

Oh, very well — I'll go — but I'll look in again. 
You're a bit excited now — but — just think it over, 
between you. (hacking a step) I shan't want so 



92 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

very much. But you'll find it'll pay you better — 
to keep my mouth shut ! 

(Squaring his jaw to empJiasize his threat, he goes 
defiantly. A moment after his departure, Martha 
goes quickly to door.) 

Martha, (gets to door, sees it is shut and then 
comes down L. and speaks standing l. of Joe) Joe ! 
Joe ! Tell me ! 

Joe. (dazed, lettitig himself fall heavily into a 
chair L. of table) Here. I've got it. (he takes the 
deed out of his pocket) 

Martha. What ? 

Joe. The deed. Signed. 

Martha. Oh. But why 

Joe. Why, what? 

Martha. Why did you allow John — 

Joe. (seated) To rank me with him? Because 
he's right, isn't he? But never mind that. We've 
got our five thousand pounds. 

Martha, (kneels l. of Joe unliappihj) Joe! 

Joe. (his eyes on the deed that he hold in his 
hand) After all, as you said, our first duty is to 
the children. We've no right to be squeamish. A 
strict sense of honor, and so forth, is a luxury that's 
denied to the poor. 

Martha, (kneeling, ivringing her hands) Joe! 
Don't talk like that ! Tell me what happened ! 

Joe. He has signed the deed. 

Martha. You were there? 

Joe. Yes. Lilian has gone with Walter. 

Martha, (starting and sitting hack in dismay) 
What! ! ! ! ! 

Joe. And Miss Lesson, too, of course. They re- 
spect the proprieties. 

Martha. (terribly distressed) Joe, Joe, you 
can't mean this ! It's not true ! 

Joe. But it is, I tell you. I held the door open 
myself. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 93 

Martha, (unable to lelieve Jier ears) You, you 
allowed Lilian to — run away from her husband ! 

Joe. (rising nervously, puts deed on table, and 
pacing the room to r.) This woman, after all, was 
not a mere doll for us to play with. We sent her to 
Walter, the three of us, for our own purposes. She 
refused to obey Willie — it was I who persuaded her. 
Well, they've gone, (r.) 

Martha, (rising with aid of chair) Joe, Joe, 
what have you done? 

Joe. Had I the right to step in and say ^^ Go back 
to your husband — the husband who sent you here ? ^' 
(sits) 

Martha. You talk like that ! You ! (leans hands 
on table, then sits l. of table) 

Joe. (over chair r. of table, then gets top of 
table) (fretfully) Why not? There's some truth 
in it, isn't there — there's something of justice — 
We wanted this money, all of us — and she was 
to pay for it. She was to go to the man she 
loved — we shut our eyes to the danger. She knew — 
she was afraid — she begged and implored. Oh no, 
we said, you must go ! You're unhappy at home — 
we know your husband ill-treats you — we know what 
your life has been — but that doesn't matter ! You're 
a high-principled woman, we said — and we are high- 
principled people, who want your lover's property 
and must have it — and you're to get it for us — but 
mind you come bach! And now that she's gone we 
say ^^ Oh, how dreadful ! " and " Who would have 
thought it!" (sinking down on chair top of table) 

Martha, (seated l. of table crying) You're 
right ! It's my fault ! Mine ! 

Joe. (turning gently to her) Fault! It's no 
one's fault. Or, if it's anyone's it's Willie's. It 
was his scheme. 

Martha. Does he know? 

Joe. (chair top of table) Not yet. I came 
straight on here. Miss Lesson approves, that's 



94: THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

something. Miss Lesson is with them. I sent Willie 
a wire to the office, he'll be here pretty soon. 

Martha, {wailing) {looking out front) Joe, 
Joe, what have we done ! 

Joe. {staring at her) Done? Nothing. WTiy 
make a fuss? After all, we have the money. 

Martha, {her head on her clasped hands) The 
money! Ah, Joe, the money! 

Joe. {doggedly) Five thousand pounds. As 
Willie said, as much as I earn in thirteen years. 
{passionately) And I don't regret it — by Heaven, I 
don't ! Why should my poor little May have to go 
as a typist and ruin her health? Doesn't my child 
come first? 

Martha. If you only had not allowed Lilian to 
go! 

Joe. Then I should have been a bigger scoundrel 
than I am. I don't know what's right and what's 
wrong — I tell you I don't. If I've been right, then 
Lilian has been right too. Oh, leave ethics alone — I 
suppose we've all been human — don't let's judge any- 
one! {head hetiueen hands) 

Martha. I'm so sorry, so sorry ! And I am the 
cause of it all. 

Joe. You — why ? 

(Martha head down — Joe raises her chin, looking 
tenderly at her, — trying to comfort her.) 

I did it of my own free will. And I tell you I'm 
glad — yes, I am ! I'm tired of this beastly life of 
ours, existing always on the edge of an income. I'm 
tired of having no money — {thumps table) of this 
eternal pinching and scraping — of having to deny 
our children everything. You were quite right — we 
had to seize this chance. And why should you be so 
sorry? Lilian's gone — well, why not? Willie made 
her fearfully unhappy, didn't he? Why should a 
woman be unhappy all her life — what law is there 
that commands it ? He has only himself to blame. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 95 

Martha. He'll blame you. 

Joe. Let him. Besides, will he care when I show 
him the deed? And anyhow, that doesn't matter. 
We have the money. 

Martha, (miserably) We'll have to pay for it, 
Joe! 

Joe. (doggedly) My daughter shall go to college. 
My daughter shall be like other men's daughters — 
she shall not be a slave and a drudge. G-reat Heaven, 
shall I stand by, and see my little girl grow pale and 
sickly, when I can prevent it? Shall she pay for 
it all ? No. I tell you, I'm glad ! (rise only — re- 
mains) 

Martha. John will talk. 

Joe. Oh no, he won't! We'll square John. 

Martha. Square him! 

Joe. Yes. One has to do these things, when one 
— I was a fool to lose my temper. He was quite 
right, too, from his point of view, (sits down again) 
I'll send him a wire, and tell him to come back. I'll 
do it at once, (he takes a telegram form, and he- 
gins to write) 

Martha, (staying him) I'd rather you didn't. 
(turns head to him) Let John say what he likes. 

Joe. (pausing) After all — why not? (he tears 
up the form) What do we care? We have our five 
thousand pounds. 

Martha, (burying her head in her hands, on 
table) Oh, I wish we hadn't! 

Joe. (stroking her hair tenderly) Now, that's 
absurd of you, Martha ! Just because Lilian's gone ? 

Martha. Yes. (head yet down) 

Joe. (after a pause, during which he has looked 
straight before him) That can't be helped now. I 
tried to prevent her, of course — but I couldn't — she 
said things — I caught a glimpse of the truth. I 
don't know — I may have been wrong — (with sudden 
passion) I don't care! Where's May? 



96 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

(Martha rises, goes to door.) 

Call her, Martha — call little May ! I want to see her 
— I want to see her happiness ! We've done this for 
he?^ haven't we ? Call her ! 

(Martha rises and goes slowly to l. of door — the 
door suddenly opens and Willie hursts in, fever- 
ishly excited. Martha gets hacTc of Joe's chair.) 

Willie. Joe! Well? 
Joe. (pause) Here. 

(Martha l. of Joe hand on shoulder — Joe holds out 
the deed, ivhich Willie pounces upon and glances 
at quickly.) 

Willie, {triumphantly) Signed! ! ! {he turns 
to Martha) Magnificent ! Martha, this is owing 
to you — You've done it ! without your help we should 
never have got it! Oh, fine! {sits L. of table) 

Joe. {top of table at his desk, looking grimly at 
W^illie) Yes, it's good, isn't it? 

Willie. He made no fuss? 

Joe. He signed it without a word. 

(Martha going to door.)] 

Where are you going, Martha? 
Martha, {aivkwardly) I- 



JoE. {stays her going) Won't you stay here? 
Martha, {ivith constrain) No, Joe 

{She bends over, kisses him, then goes slowly. 
Willie sits l. of table, and turns over the pages 
of the deed, chuckling to himself.) 

Willie. Signed — and witnessed! Splendid! 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 97 

Joe, my boy, you've done a great day's work. How 
did you get it? 

Joe. (leaimig on table, loolcing fixedly at him) 
I was there 

Willie. You were there? (he glances up for a 
moment in surprise) Ah, well, perhaps you were 
right, — (he turns over another page) Hullo, (rises, 
leans over table) What's this? (with sudden 
anger) By Jove! what does this mean? (he loohs 
furiously at Joe) 

Joe. What? 

Willie. Pretend you don't Icnow! That's why 
you went there ! 

Joe. (staring at him) What do you mean? 

Willie. Your name as purchaser! (striking 
deed — holds it in left hand, strikes it with right) 
You! 

Joe. (seated) By Jove ! I'd forgotten ! 

Willie. (sneering) You'd forgotten! Of 
course! Oh you honest man! You fine, noble 
creature ! Who could have believed it ! 

Joe. (grimly) Smart, wasn't it ? 

Willie. Smart ! Disgraceful ! A scandalous 
trick! You, my own brother — (turns from him) 

Joe. As you've often remarked, Willie, there's 
no such thing as friendship in business. 

Willie, (pause — after a moment's pause — then 
with a sudden change of manner) Ah, well — (sits l. 
of table) though I didn't expect it of you, I confess. 
(he becomes playful, and almost genial) Well, there 
it is! Oh, you guileless literary men! — (leans back) 
Any way, you can do nothing with it, of course. . . 

Joe. (seated top of table) Can't I? I'm the 
owner of a property that is worth double what I have 
to pay for it 

Willie, (waving his hand) Tssch! Where will 
you raise the money? 

Joe. There'll be no difficulty about that, when I 
mention the coal. 



98 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie, (anxiously) Come, come, you're joking, 
of course — you 

Joe. Joking, am I? By Heaven, I've paid dearly 
enough for this thing — now I'll make what I can ! 

Willie, (staring) What do you mean? 

Joe. / am the purchaser, am I not ? Very well — 
I'm willing to transfer the deed to you 

Willie, (beaming) Of course! I knew you 
would ! 

Joe. But not for five thousand pounds ! Oh, no ! 

Willie. How much then? 

Joe. Twenty. 

Willie, (with a shrieJc) What! What! 

Joe. Not a penny less. Twenty thousand pounds. 

Willie. Joe, this is absurd — it's monstrous 

Joe. If you don't give it, I'll try elsewhere. 

Willie. Look here, I'll make it ten 

Joe. No good haggling, Willie. I've got you by 
the neck. 

Willie. Twelve! Just think — (hand extends) — 
twelve thousand 

Joe. Mere waste of breath. I'll have twenty. 

Willie. Joe, I'll make it fifteen. That's my last 
word. I won't go beyond fifteen. 

Joe. Twenty ! And if you don't accept now — I'll 
raise. 

Willie. (quickly) Very well — done — done! 
(leans head on hand) You shall have it — I'll give 
you twenty — By George, you've cornered me (smooth- 
ing hrow) — and not many men have done that! 
Twenty thousand pounds! You shall have it. 

Joe. So — (rises, cross to fire) that's settled. 

Willie. (genially) Smart — yes, I agree it 
was smart. Hanged if I don't rather admire you 
for it! Here — (rises and gets to seat at top of 
table, taking deed) let's be businesslike, (he sits 
at Joe's table, takes the deed and writes on the back 
of it) " I transfer my rights in this deed to William 
Tremblett^ in consideration of the sum of twenty 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. ^9 

thousand pounds, to be paid within one week/' 
That's right, eh? 

Joe. (right elhow on mantel shelf at fire) Yes. 

Willie. ''London, the 11th of March, 1905." 
Here, {he places the deed r. of table gets up and 
hands the pen to Joe) Write your name underneath. 

(Joe returns to table. Willie gets to fire, leaves 
Joe holding the pen in his hand.) 

Heavens ! a pile of money ! But it's worth it ! 

Joe. It is, eh? (he holds the pen in his hand in 
air — above deed slightly) 

Willie, (with overflowing enthusiasm) Ah, my 
boy, you don't know all! (rises) The Great 
Central will want a good slice of that land for 
their new extension — and there's a canal close by 
that we will run through — there'll be wharves, ware- 
houses, docks — I tell you there's not a square yard 
of those fifteen thousand acres that I — (a step to 
Joe) — shan't turn to account! Joe, this isn't a 
fortune — it's a series of fortunes ! It's not a hundred 
thousand — I shall make — it'll be nearer a million ! 

Joe. (carelessly turning deed over face down- 
wards on table, greedily) Eeally! Hang it — then 
you'd have given me more ! 

Willie. More! I should think I would! But 
don't you trouble, you've not done so badly! 
Smart of you — yes — (up to Joe) it was — devilish 
smart! And I don't begrudge you the money 
— no, I don't ! (gets down r. — pause) A million — 
and it may be more — it may be more! Five thou- 
sand acres of coal — and a whole town springing up 
around ! Within ten years the sky will be black with 
the smoke of factories! Ah, (paces l.) By George, 
now I can do things! I'll endow libraries, too — I'll 
make a splash with the money ! I'll be a philanthrop- 
ist (up c. — ) why not — it pays! (paces up l.), 
Money! By Heavens, I'll handle that money, 
(coming round top of table and down R. c.) and 

LOfC. 



100 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

make it increase, and multiply ! I tell you I'll do 
things ! 

Jop:. (sourly) And I only get twenty thousand 
against your million — 

Willie. (shaJces Joe's shoulder) For a man 
who has been making — (cross easily) three hun- 
dred a year that's not so dusty ! You'll find you 
can do things, too — (sits) ah, you'll see! (sits 
L. of table) Not a bad day's work for us both! A 
thousand a year for you, Joe — a clear thousand a 
year ! 

Joe. I shall be able to take it easier now — go back 
to my books — (left elbow on table, head on hand) 

Willie. And provide for your children — and 
sleep on both ears — and have never a care ! While 
I — oh, you'll see ! No more shady companies for me 
— (leani^ig bach) I shall go square now — I can 
afford it! (turns and leans over table, quietly) 
Was I so wrong, do you think, to want Lilian to go 
to him? 

Joe. (suddenly remembering) Lilian! 

Willie. She has done me a good turn for once — 
she has ! 

Joe. (turns to him) You haven't been home? 

Willie, (seated l.) I came straight on here the 
moment I got your wire. She shall have her allow- 
ance — and double, my Jove ! She has earned it ! 

Joe. (sullenly) I was there, I tell you — 

Willie, (leans bach, crosses legs) (very jolly) 
I know — to get him to stick in your name. Oh, art- 
ful — very ! 

Joe. (leans over table) Lilian has gone. 

Willie, (starting back) Eh? What? What 
do you say? 

Joe. Lilian has gone with them. 

Willie. Are you mad? Gone with whom? 
Where? 

Joe. She has gone to Canada, with Miss Lesson, 
and Cardew, 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 101 

Willie. Wliat ! 

Joe. Yes. 

Willie, {in agony) You — ^let — her — go! 

Joe. I did. 

Willie. You ! 

Joe. We sent her to him — we knew that they 
loved each other — 

Willie, {across table) You — my brother! 

Joe. You didn't care — you wanted the land ! So 
did I. Well, we've got it. 

Willie, {livid, iviJdhj) I — I loved her! 

Joe. {shrugging his shoulders) Pooh ! 

Willie. I tell you I loved her ! 

Joe. {angrily) And sent her to Walter ! Forced 
her to go to him! {thumps left fist on table) 

Willie, {almost in a moan) How else could I 
get him to sell? How else? And they've gone? 

Joe. Yes, I tell you — yes. 

(Willie turns his face to the wall — there is a mo- 
ment's silence — suddenly he springs up.) 

Willie. I'll go after her now — there's time — 

{Going L. stops — turns to Joe who has made an ex- 
clamation: Willie stares at him for a moment.) 

Joe. D'you think she'll come back — with you! 
{with a clumsy attempt at sympathy) Miss Lesson 
is with them, Lilian travels under her protection — 

(Willie sits l. c.^ up l.) 

Willie, {breaking in fiercely) Stop that — don't 
give me any nursery tales — and I don't want your 
sympathy! Ah, you've done a fine thing, haven't 
you? Served yourself both ways! Filled your 
pockets, and sent off my wife with her lover? 

Joe. I went there because I was afraid. 



102 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

Willie. Because you were afraid — of course! 
And being afraid, you let him bribe you ! 

(Joe makes a movement.) 

Would she have gone unless you consented? 

Joe. {doggedly) I did consent — yes. 

Willie, {savagely) You admit it? (l. c.) 

Joe. See how you've treated her all these years! 

Willie. None of that ! Youve lost the right to 
preach! There are twenty thousand pounds in your 
pocket that she has earned for you ! 

Joe. {quietly) And a million in yours. 

Willie. {in a whisper) A million in mine! 
That's so ! {with a sudden change — in savage ex- 
ultatio7i) Very well — {gets down L.) let her go! 

Joe. Of course ! 

Willie, {down l.) After all — after all — what 
has she been to me ? Let her go ! I'll have a divorce 
— I'll marry again. What do I care? I have the 
money — I have his estate — that's something. I've 
got it at less than a twentieth part of its value — 
{ends L.) 

Joe. {grimly) I knew you wolildn't be long be- 
fore you found comfort — 

Willie, (l.) Comfort! {a step up i,. c.) After 
all — we're not boys ! I was just a bit hipped at first 
— because — well, I loved her — 

(Joe laughs.) 

I did. (l. c.) But she never cared for me — never. 
{with sudden violence) All right then — draw a line 
now — close the account — turn over a new page ! I'll 
have a divorce — Y"es — I will — And at any rate she'll 
be disgraced — there's comfort in that. 

Joe. {eyeing him quietly) Another consolation, 
eh? You'll be finding more soon. 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 103 

Willie, (up l. c.) What has she been to me? — 
the boy's dead. I'll marry again. 

Joe. Yes — you'll be able to buy another wife 
now. 

Willie. (l. exalted, steps nearer table l.) 
There's nothing in all this world that I can't buy ! 
Honour, place, power — I can have what I want ! — I 
shall use this money — yes — I shall have men cring- 
ing to me — all men. (turns to Joe, over table) 
It's the money has bought you, brother Joe, with 
your magnificent principles — it shall buy others ! 
(with a snarl) We're in the same boat now — (leans 
over on table l.) we're brothers at last! (over 
table) 

Joe. So it seems ! (looking at Willie) And 
we're sons of one father. 

Willie. (at chair l. of table, shrugging his 
shoulders) Yes, I've been a mad ass — I have — Why 
should I mind? She's gone, the jade, with her man 
— Very well, things shan't be too pleasant for them, 
out there — I'll see to that ! And so, to the devil with 
her, and with all the rest too! (goes down l.) 

Joe. (takes up photograph) Sons of one father ! 
. He'di have been very pleased with what we 
have done to-day ! 

Willie. He's dead — don't worry about him. 
(paces up L. and down L.) 

Joe. (gazing intently at photograph) He was an 
honest man, our father — wasn't he? Proud of his 
name? He didn't care about money? 

Willie, (l.) Because he never had any, that's 
all. 

Joe. (rises, for the first time taking his eyes from 
the photograph, and turning fiercely on Willie) 
(up R. of table) Don't you talk about him! Leave 
him out ! D'you hear ? 

Willie. What's up now? 

Joe. (r. of table, fiercely, ivildly) We're broth- 
ers at last, are we? You've caught me, in your 



104 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

beastly net? She can go to the devil, and you'll 
make things unpleasant for her, and you've got your 
million? 

Willie. Got it, and mean to stick to it, I can 
tell you. 

(Getting to table.) 

Another attack of virtue, eh? It's rather late, (he 
snatches the deed) Good-bye. (he holes at it) 
Hullo, you've not signed it! Here — (he pushes the 
deed before Joe) Just endorse it, will you? 

Joe. (r. of table) And suppose I don't? 

Willie. (standing over table) Come, come, 
don't play the fool. I want to be off. 

Joe. What would the old man have thought of it 
all? Of us? 

Willie, (l. of table) Never mind the old man. 
You've got your twenty thousand — 

Joe. (suddenly) No, by God, I haven't! And I 
won't! (he shouts '"Martha! Martha!'') 

Willie, (furiously) What new game is this? 
Sign, you fool — sign ! 

Joe. I won't ! Ah ! You'd crawl through any 
muckheap to get your money? And you want to 
drag me with you? To make my name stink, too? 

Willie, (holding out the deed and pen) Sign 
the deed. Here. Sign it — that's all — you've only 
to sign — 

Joe. We've sold her, between us — haven't we, for 
this ? 

Willie, (savagely) Sign, you fool — sign! 

(Martha comes in anxiously followed by May) 
(They get up at bach c.) 

Joe. Sign it? l^es, I'll sign it ! yes! (he seizes 
the deed, tears it in two, and thrusts it in the fire) 
(ramming it between the bars) There's my signa- 
ture ! There I 



THE PRICE OF MONEY. 105 

Willie, (aghast) God! 

Joe. There ! You and I at least shall not profit ! 
Whatever happens to Lilian we shall not gain ! 

(Willie maTces a frantic rush to the grate — Joe 
steps between.) 

No — ^let it burn ! It makes me clean ! 

(Willie draws himself up — loolcs steadily at Joe 
for a moment, then goes to the door, at the thres- 
hold he turns and speaks, with deadly hatred.) 

Willie. You know what you've done? You're a 
beggar again. Well, rot in your poverty ! Eot ! 

(He goes.) 

Martha, (quickly) Joe! (she runs to him top 
of arm chair) 

(May follows wonderingly — Joe drops into a chair.) 

Joe. May — my little May ! (he puts out his 
hands to the child) May! 

(May runs to him.) 

May, May, I couldn't do it — I couldn't (sinks into 
arm chair-) I tried, but I couldn't ! Forgive me ! 
May, May, you'll have to go to the city ! 

May. (kneeling l. of him) Daddy! Daddy! 

Joe. I'm a failure in life, May — 

(Martha gets R. of him, leans on mantel shelf head 
bowed down.) 

And — I've failed again here. I've no money — I 
never could make any money — I had a fortune — I 



106 THE PRICE OF MONEY. 

had only to sign that paper — and I couldn't do it! 
I've burned what was yours — I've burned your hap- 
piness. But, May, May, it wouldn't have been 
honest ! 

Martha. (r. of arm chair stealing Tier arm 
through his) Oh, Joe, I'm glad ! Oh, Joe, I'm glad ! 

Joe. {happily) Martha! 

Martha. Yes, I'm glad! 

May. {throwing her arms round his neck) 
Father, I love you ! I'm sure you're right, because 
it's you ! And I love you, daddy — more than ever ! 

Joe. My little May! {he draws the child close 
to him, and buries his head in her curls, as the cur- 
tain slowly falls) 

CURTAIN. 



qOV 24 1906 






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